


Beginner's Luck

by bukkunkun



Series: The Metaverse Hotel and Casino [1]
Category: Persona 2, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5
Genre: (good lord i'm so sorry about that one everybody), Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Cameos, Casinos, Codenames, Communication Failure, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gambling, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Triangles, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Symbolism, Undercover, but much later on and it's very mild, i'm also implying that akira has slept around but that's because he's a goddamn prostitute, i'm no good at write, im so sorry tatsujun fans, lots and lots of cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 131,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: Yusuke had always been rather unlucky.That is, until he discovers his muse, and his teacher's high-paying obsession with gambling, casinos, the decadence of sins, and prostitutes.Of course, given his luck, he soon finds himself in the middle of a scheme he never saw coming.Falling in love with Joker was a bad idea, after all.(Not that he was in love with him, no sir.)





	1. la mère de lys

**Author's Note:**

> **please don't read this fic, it's awful. if you do, please don't let me know you did, i'd very much like to forget about this entirely. please keep your comments to yourself.**
> 
> shUT UP SHUT UP I KNOW YUSUKE HAS A SHIT LUCK STAT PLEASE CUT ME SOME SLACK I HAD NO IDEA SINCE FOR SOME REASON YUSUKE'S BEEN AN AMAZING CRITLORD IN BOTH MY FIRST RUN AND MY CURRENT NG+ RUN ON HARD MODE. 
> 
> FUCK THE LUCK STAT, MY YUSUKE IS A CRITMASTER, LOOKS LIKE A SHIGURE, HITS LIKE A RYOMA (hi fe14 fans xander is my waifu) 
> 
> I came with up with the casino fic idea while listening to Whims Of Fate on loop while I made my way through the 6th palace with akechi, savouring each and every moment i had with him until it was,,, , ,, , gone,, , ,just like that,, , ,, 
> 
> (please come back akechi i love you,)
> 
> Soooo. I basically wanted a casino moulin rouge kinda au, so here we are, with prostitute!akira and innocent loverboy!yusuke. this is completely self-indulgent. i'm basically garbage.
> 
> you know what nothing actually happens in chapter one but do i care? n o, ,, ,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> la mère de lys = the mother of lilies

“I pray for your guidance on this day, mother.” He murmured, hands pressed neatly together, and the ceiling fan lazily spun over his head. The creaks of wood and the rustling of the bamboos in the garden mixed with the calm late-afternoon cricket songs, and the scent of warm musky wood mixed with the scent of burning incense. “I’m going to ask him today, and I hope he will take it positively.”

The flowers by his mother's shrine were wilting, and two one-hundred-yen coins rattled together at the bottom of his wallet.

“You were always the luckier one, I was told.”

He smiled softly, and straightened up. He thumbed at the white lilies framing his mother's softly-smiling face, fresh from childbirth with the joy of a mother whose future held the promise of hope, and the bundle of white in her arms was the biggest gift and the biggest challenge life would throw at her.

The bundle in her arms, in the end, became the only evidence of her life on canvas.

“Yusuke?”

The young man jolted, and he got up from where he was kneeling on the tatami flooring to see his guardian walk inside, a box of food hanging from his wrist by plastic rope. The man had a familial smile on his face. “Ah, Yusuke. So that's where you were.”

“Apologies, Madarame-sensei,” Yusuke replied, straightening up properly as the man walked through the open sliding door, his bare feet making soft padding noises in time the creaks of the flooring. “I had been under the impression you would return much later.”

“Oh, I was supposed to, yes,” he nodded, striding past Yusuke to kneel at his mother's shrine as well, bowing to the photograph of a forgotten woman, and the scent of softly-burning white lily incense. “However, a previous engagement ended early and I decided to come home.” He continued, after a short moment of respectful silence, and he got back up onto his feet with Yusuke's help. “The business venture was successful, and I am invited out to dinner tonight for our efforts.” He pressed the box into Yusuke's hands, chuckling. “This is yours.”

It was odd to see his mentor this pleased, but Yusuke was a young man who grew up learning to take the cards he had been dealt. He nodded, holding the box close to himself, and followed his master out into the living room, where much to his surprise, a gruff-looking man in a long coat stood by the front door, not once having stepped inside their home proper.

“Ah, Mune,” his teacher laughed, waving his hand, “I told you, please, step inside.”

“Rather not.” The man replied, and Yusuke spotted a gecko tattoo on the side of his neck. He blinked at the man, but he offered no further explanation, leaning against the wall next to their shoe cabinet with his arms crossed. Madarame chuckled, shaking his head, and he turned to look at Yusuke.

“I will be home late, Yusuke. Please remember to lock up.” He said, and Yusuke nodded.

“Understood, Sensei.” He gave the men a respectful bow. “Have a good evening.”

Madarame gave him a dismissive wave, and headed after the man he called Mune, slipping his shoes back on. The imposing man turned to leave unhurriedly, and Madarame followed after him without so much as a goodbye to Yusuke. When the front doors slid shut, he let out a deep sigh, and he sat down on the floor.

Quietly he unwrapped the box to find sushi inside—leftovers, possibly, from the function his teacher had just left from, and he smiled softly to himself when he saw a tiny paper envelope hidden next to the sushi, wrapped in food-safe plastic to keep it from touching the food.

He took it out and carefully unwrapped the plastic, setting it down beside him to open the envelope. Inside was 5,000 yen and a small handwritten note:

_Sorry it has to reach you this way. Heard he's not giving you an allowance this month, so here's my help to you. - Natsuhiko_

Yusuke sighed again, fatigue bleeding into his breath as he slumped back to lie down on the floor. Natsuhiko was an old student of Madarame's, but he had left the atelier to pursue other careers. Yusuke hadn't seen him in a while, but every now and then Natsuhiko made himself known to him, in small envelopes left where he could find them around his university, pinned between the gears of his beat-up bike, within the leaves of his sketchbook he accidentally left lying around in Shibuya Station, and now—in take-out boxes of expensive sushi. Natsuhiko kept leaving him money where Madarame refused to give him any, and while he was grateful for his help, Yusuke couldn't bring himself to readily accept all this grace on him.

Still, it _was_ helpful. Yusuke was fed well enough, at least outside his home, a cozy, beautiful Japanese-style house they moved into after Yusuke had graduated from high school.

Back then, he and Madarame, alongside his many other students, lived in a humble little shack at the edge of Shibuya. There, the nights were cold and his bed was uncomfortable, but the many voices of his students and the scent of his mother's shrine's incense was enough to make it feel like home to him. When Yusuke graduated from high school and entered college on a full art scholarship, Madarame turned his pursuits beyond the art world, and the name became known more than in the household. Money came in easily, and while his student count dwindled, his home grew larger, from a run-down little shack, to a medium-sized Japanese-style home, and Yusuke stayed with him through it all.

He huffed softly, and sent a text to Natsuhiko.

_Thank you for the support, as always._

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Yusuke got up to put the sushi in the fridge for a moment. He had errands to run.

He wondered if the shop would be full at this time of the day. The evening was drawing near, and Shibuya grew livelier at night. Shinjuku, even more so, but the underground mall had its hotspots, and Yusuke, having lived two decades in its vicinity, knew it like the back of his hand.

He smiled to himself as he slipped his shoes on, and thought about a beautiful, brilliant smile, soft grey eyes, and an even softer voice speaking his name.

_“Kitagawa-san.”_

Angels could speak, he knew. He’d felt this way for so long, but he knew, someday, he would muster up the courage to ask him something important.

Maybe that day was today.

* * *

_I hope you'll keep making your art too,_ Natsuhiko replied later on, _I know it's all yours now. Your style's always been so distinct._

Yusuke decided not to reply to that.

“ _Shibuya Station. You have arrived at Shibuya Station._ ” Above his head, the announcer's voice rang, and he got off the train to head towards the underground mall. His steps grew wider, and his pace picked up in anticipation as he made a beeline for the flower shop _Rafflesia_ , and the smile was on his face before he realised it.

“Something good happen today?” The main florist was out today, it seemed. The brunette woman was missing from her usual spot outside, and today, a lone young man with fluffy black hair smiled at him as he approached.

Yusuke's heart fluttered at the sight of those grey eyes, those lips lifting in a smile that no amount of pencil or brush strokes could ever fully capture.

“Kurusu-san.” he breathed instead, and the bespectacled florist chuckled, already picking up a small bouquet of lilies, prepared in advance.

“Kitagawa-san.” Kurusu replied. “I guessed your white lilies must have started wilting now, so I had prepped something in case you showed up.” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “Guess I was right?”

“You are,” Yusuke nodded, and he took the flowers from Kurusu, before reaching for his wallet for the money Natsuhiko sent him. “And as usual—”

“Hey, no, it's on me this time,” Kurusu grinned, his hand wrapping around Yusuke's wrist, and he could only hope that the florist could not feel his heartbeat, rabbit-fast and pounding under his pale, delicate skin. Yusuke flushed softly as Kurusu lowered his hand gently, his other one reaching behind him to pull out his own wallet. “Something…” he seemed to hesitate for a moment, his expression falling in only the slightest, before his face once again bore the cool professional-like smile he wore for work. Yusuke faltered at the hesitation, but Kurusu continued like nothing happened, “Something big's gonna happen in my night job later, so I wanted to help you out.” He shrugged, leaning back away from Yusuke. “I mean, you're in college, right? It must be hard to spend on anything.”

“Oh, but I insist—” Yusuke began, but Kurusu shook his head.

“It's okay. Art school's expensive, even if you're on a scholarship.” He said kindly. “'Sides, these are for your mom's shrine, right?” Yes, he had told Kurusu about that the first time they met, “I… just think of it as my way of paying respects to her, too.”

“Thank… you.” Yusuke replied hesitantly, and Kurusu gave him a kind smile.

“And I've told you before, Akira's fine.” He laughed softly, and this time, the genuine warmth he held when he talked with Yusuke was back, much to Yusuke's relief. “We know each other well enough for at least that, right?”

“I-I suppose,” Yusuke nodded. “My apologies, I'd been so used to just,” he made a vague gesture with his hand, and Akira chuckled.

“It's tough in the art world, huh?” He said, “I saw your art piece the other day, it was featured on _Good Morning Japan_. I didn't know you guest-showed at Madarame's art shows.”

Truth be told, _all_ the artworks were _his_ in Madarame's shows, but only one was credited to him, claimed as a guest to Madarame's exhibits. They always picked the one that resembled the others the least, and to Yusuke, it was enough as a starting foothold in the art world.

Someday, it would be _his_ name on exhibits. He simply had to be patient.

“Oh, you did…” he mumbled, and Akira nodded.

“The _Incarceration._ It was beautiful.” He said with a dreamy sigh. “I like it better than Madarame's stuff, actually.”

Yusuke's blush was _definitely_ visible now, and he laughed nervously as he scratched his cheek. “Th-thank you.” He replied, “That means a lot to me, truly.”

Akira gave him a supportive smile. “I'd like to see a whole gallery of your stuff someday,” he said. “I bet that'd be amazing.”

Yusuke blinked at Akira, and much to his surprise, pink stained the florist's cheeks. “S-sorry. Was that weird?” He asked, avoiding Yusuke's gaze, meeting it for a moment before stealing away in embarrassment. “That was weird. I'm so sorry.”

“N-no, I'm actually rather glad.” Yusuke said, reaching forward to reassure Akira, only to end up holding his hand. Embarrassment flooded his mind, but somehow Akira didn't pull his hand away, and Yusuke was content to not-quite-illegally steal some warmth from the young man's hand.

Oh, dear mother in heaven, he thought. He was positively smitten.

“R-really?” Akira blinked innocently at him, and Yusuke's heart swelled with affection.

Surrounded by flowers, a pink flush on his cheeks and his glasses askew like this, Akira Kurusu was the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on. Yusuke felt like he could stare at him for so long, and paint for as long and as precisely as he could, and still, no acrylic or oil or watercolour on canvas could hold a candle to the way Akira's cheeks glowed, the way his lips curved softer than Cupid's arrow itself, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle and yet be so bold and full like matte grey.

“You're beautiful,” Yusuke's words tumbled out of his mouth like morning dewdrops on camellia petals, and Akira gaped at him. “I—I—”

Now or never, he supposed.

“I would like to capture your smile in my artwork.” He said, “Please, Akira-san. Model for me?”

The florist froze, and he pulled his hand from Yusuke's, his expression twisting to one of pain.

“Sorry.” He said quietly. “I can't.”

Something shattered inside Yusuke, and his eyes widened. “But I—I,” he stammered. “Have I… misunderstood?”

“N-no! I-I would like to!” Akira hurried to recover. “But… I…” he frowned. “I can't. I'm no good.”

“What do you mean?” Yusuke asked, his voice strained, “Akira-san, you—”

“I'm…” he shook his head. “I'm sorry, you shouldn't beat yourself up over this. It's my bad.” He patted Yusuke's hand. “Um… it's getting late. I have a night job I gotta go to.”

“O-of course.” Yusuke nodded numbly. “Forgive me, Akira-san.”

Akira's answering smile was an odd mix of pity, regret and pain. “No, Kitagawa-san. Please forgive _me._ ”


	2. le diable sourit doucement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the devil smiles sweetly)
> 
> He dialled the Devil's number, and he could hear her smirk in her voice when she said hello.
> 
> “Ohya-san,” he panted, “I'm moving out of Stockholm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whEEZES SO OH BOY TIME FOR THE PLOT TO ACTUALLY GET ROLLING LMFAO HOPE Y'ALL BUCKLE IN FOR THE oddly slow RIDE WHOOOOOOOOO spoilers for future chapters: sexy times happen in like, chapter 11 and even then it's not kitashu. also coming up ahead is dubcon and among other things sO Y'KNOW, ,, , ,JUST A HEADS UP, , ,, first few chapters are tame tho so y'all still cool
> 
> anyway if anyone's a yoi fan i am participating in [a phichit + yuuri friendship zine](https://twitter.com/katsuchuzine/status/879640455482286080) and i wasted an afternoon [classifying the major arcana to the yoi cast](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/879585953878167553). look at it if ur interested,, , , ,thank yu, ,, , ,pls make friends w me,, , ,, 
> 
> anyway, at the end notes will be a preview for the next chapter, so stay tuned for that!

_Of course_ he would mess up such a delicate thing like that. Madarame had said so himself—he was an awkward, strange little thing, he had always needed his teacher's guidance to speak to the populace.

He'd scared off Akira, his muse, his—

The person he'd fallen in love with.

Stupid, shy young Yusuke Kitagawa, he thought bitterly as he approached the atelier. Of course there was no way he would have succeeded at that.

“Hey, you!”

Even heading home felt unappealing. His sketchbooks and empty canvases on folded easels all called out for Akira's beauty to grace their blank pages, but what was memory compared to the real thing? What was a simple portrait of a man to the presence of an angel?

“Hey, you! Bean pole boy with the flowers!”

Yusuke's stomach rumbled, calling for the sushi in the fridge, but his heart wasn't into it. The weight of the white lilies in his arms was usually next to nothing, but today they felt like dumbbells weighing him down.

“Hey!”

A hand on his shoulder, and he was whirled around to see a frustrated-looking woman, her sunglasses on her head askew, and she was panting, like as if she had run a block.

“Hey, you!” She growled, “I'd been calling for you since the other corner!”

Ah, so she had.

“Yes, what is it?” He asked coolly, straightening up to face her properly, though he was frowning.

“Right. My name is Ichiko Ohya,” she said, offering him her hand to shake. He nodded politely and shook her hand. “I'm an investigative journalist.”

“An… investigative journalist.” Yusuke echoed, and she nodded. “I see, but what business do you have with me?”

“You're Yusuke Kitagawa, yes?” She asked, and Yusuke nodded, unsure. “So you're Ichiryusai Madarame's student.”

“Ah, yes.” He replied. “However, he is not—”

“At home right now, I know.” She said, digging around her pockets to fish out her phone. “Hey, listen—Kitagawa-kun, the artworks Madarame-sensei showcases in his shows—”

Yusuke's blood ran cold. No. She couldn't have…

Ohya's smirk at him told him she already understood the face he was unconsciously making.

“Only one is mine.” He blurted out before she could continue, and Ohya's smirk was of the devil's.

“Bingo.” She purred. “So they _are_ all yours.”

“I said no such thing!” Yusuke hissed, unconsciously holding Akira's bouquet closer to himself. “How _dare_ you insinuate that my Sensei would—”

“Natsuhiko Nakanohara.” Ohya interrupted him, and Yusuke paused.

“Natsu… hiko.” He said slowly, and the woman nodded.

“Do you know him? He's a teller at City Hall.” She said, her hand at her hip. “He's really good at art, too. His girlfriend—well, his _ex_ , is a girlfriend of mine. We drink together at this bar in Shinjuku often.”

“What is—I don't—”

“Point is,” Ohya draped her arm over Yusuke's shoulders, albeit with some difficulty, given their height difference. “Did you know? She told me Nakanohara-san has a style similar to Madarame's. Isn't that odd?”

Yusuke shook. “Sometimes students emulate their idols' styles to further their own.”

His voice was as weak as his reasoning, and Ohya knew it.

“And you know what else she said? Lately, Madarame's had his fair share of wealth all of a sudden.” Ohya tapped her phone on her chin. “You two recently moved to a beautiful little house on the fairer side of Tokyo with an even fairer price. Do you ever wonder where your sensei gets all that cash?”

“I…” he _had_ wondered. Part of him selfishly wished Madarame would give him a better allowance, now that they had a better home and Yusuke got himself a full art school scholarship. He never asked Madarame for more, though.

He'd been too afraid to.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” He replied. Weak, like the way he was for a good twenty-something years.

Ohya's grin was infuriating. Yusuke wanted to run the last few metres home, their front doors right within reach, but he stayed rooted to where he stood, paralysed by anxiety, of his teacher, of the strange, accusatory woman in front of him.

“What if I told you, Kitagawa-kun, that your Sensei has had a little more than a few filthy fingers in decadent pies?”

Yusuke blinked at her. “He has recently ventured in other business endeavours—”

“You know what I mean, Kitagawa-kun.”

Yusuke's expression hardened. “Present your evidence.”

Ohya turned her phone around for him to look at, and Yusuke found himself staring at a photograph of his mentor, dressed in a gaudy, golden kimono and his face hidden by a mask. He was seated with other masked individuals in sharp suits and sleek dresses at a gambling table. A wide, greedy grin split his face in two, in his hand two cards as the dealer, a long-haired woman with red-lens goggles, laid down another set of cards. Next to Madarame was a masked young man in a cheongsam as deep red as blood, the slit high up to almost reach his waist, open just teasingly enough to let Yusuke could see a pitch black garter around his thigh. The young man, seated on the edge of the poker table, had his back to the camera, and Yusuke's cheeks flushed deeply at the sight of a deep dip in the dress, showcasing a smooth, smooth back. He was curved elegantly towards the old man in a flashy kimono, and with a red-gloved hand to painted lips curled up in a smirk, he was caught in the photograph in the middle of whispering in his teacher's ear. A different man's arm was around the young man's waist, unseen outside the frame of the photograph, but it was enough to make Yusuke's heart seemingly stop completely in horror.

He spotted Madarame’s hand just barely peeking through the prostitute’s black, fluffy hair to keep him bent low and close to his ear, and Yusuke’s stomach lurched.

“That… that is not my teacher.”

“Hm, maybe not the one you know.” Ohya nodded, “This man is known as Azazel, and he's apparently a high limit player in a casino called The Metaverse.”

“No,” Yusuke said firmly, shaking his head as his hands shook without the conviction his voice held. “The man is wearing a mask. He could be anyone. Stop accusing my teacher of such scandalous things.”

“Hey,” Ohya's expression was outraged, but Yusuke had had enough.

“Leave me now, or I will report you to my Sensei's private security.” He snapped. Ohya glowered at him, pursing her lips together before shaking her head.

“Fine.” She said, before handing Yusuke a calling card. “But just in case you decide to see reason and move out of Stockholm,” at that, Yusuke cocked his head in confusion, and she shook her head. “Call me. Talk to me again when you can.”

Yusuke watched her leave with a severe frown on his face, and when she turned a corner, out of his sight, he sighed, and headed back home.

* * *

Yusuke decided to draw that night, his hands cooperating with him as they somehow remembered to stuff a piece of sushi into his mouth every once in a while as he worked. He had replaced his mother's lilies with Akira's lilies, and as always, they were just right—just on the side of small, and not too fragrant—to fit perfectly in her shrine.

He had tried to draw Akira, he really did, but much to his horror, all that graced his sketchbook was that beautiful young man by Madarame's side at the poker table. Yusuke's hands, traitorous and disobedient, brought a beautiful, smooth back to life, painted sultry catlike eyes, a beautiful, teasing thigh—

His collar felt tight. Sweat pooled at his temple. The heat was getting to him, Yusuke thought, putting his pencil down with a sigh.

No, of course it wasn't. Autumn was settling into winter, and the wind had been anything but warm.

Yusuke glowered at the sensual being constantly showing up in his drawings. All of them had no faces, simply the mask and the curls of black hair, parted to one side with a butterfly brooch. The cheongsam flowed like blood off his slender body, and Yusuke felt heat boil in his gut.

No, he thought. He could not lust after some faceless prostitute in a single photograph. It felt like betrayal—of himself, of… Akira.

“Ah, Akira.” He sighed, leaning back for what felt like the first time in ages. His joints creaked in protest after being held in a single position for long, and Yusuke winced as they popped satisfyingly loudly.

There was earlier that evening, too, where he had scared Akira off by asking him to model for him. He groaned, and got up from his seat at his study table to head back into the living room to stretch his muscles. He looked up at the wallclock to see it was approaching midnight, and his teacher was nowhere to be found.

Yusuke frowned. Perhaps the dinner just carried on for a bit too long, that was it. This regularly happened, Madarame returning in the wee hours of the morning—Yusuke sometimes woke to the sound of his arrival, and that was fine. His mentor would come back soon, there was no reason to worry.

He sat down on the couch, staring at the front doors, and after a long, dragging moment of silence, Ohya's words echoed in his head, and he frowned deeply, pressing the heels of his wrists to his eyes.

No, he couldn't doubt his teacher. His teacher was all he had left.

* * *

Yusuke hadn't realised he had fallen asleep until the door slid open, and he spied the man named Mune step inside. He jolted slightly, but he lay back against the sofa and pretended to stay asleep, staying as still as he could and forcing himself to breathe evenly. He listened to Mune and another person bundle someone into the house, and the thud-thud-thud of Mune's boots against the floor almost made Yusuke wince.

He would have to clean that up tomorrow.

“Mune-san,” a soft voice said, and Yusuke didn't quite recognise it, yet it felt so… _familiar_. “Why did you let the old man drink so much?”

“Wasn't me,” came Mune's gruff reply. “C'mon, this way, Joker.”

The thud-thud-thud of combat boots and bare feet against tatami flooring told Yusuke they headed deeper into the house, presumably into Madarame's room, and his gut felt cold.

The other nights Madarame came home late Yusuke had found him in his room, and mud between the tatami mats that served as their home flooring. For the longest time Yusuke had thought nothing of it, saw no correlation between the two discrepancies, but now, with the sound of Mune's boots in the backdrop of his blind soundscape, Yusuke began to seriously reconsider.

Ohya's card burned like a brand from where he had stuffed it in his pocket.

“Wait, Mune-san,” the soft voice said after a long time of shuffling, and Yusuke wished he could open his eyes to see this Joker's face too. “Let me just…”

“We don't have time for that, kid,” Mune sounded annoyed, but he heard the man stop by the front doors. Yusuke wondered for a moment what Joker intended to do, when he heard the click of a phone camera, and felt gentle fingers brushing at his bangs.

He felt the soft, barely-there brush of someone's breath against his cheek, and he could smell lilies wafting off someone very, very close.

Oh, god. Joker was touching him.

“Hey, Joker—” Mune snapped, and the fingers that were brushing back his bangs jolted back away from him.

“Sorry.” Joker replied, voice strained. “I just…”

“Know him?”

There was a long pause, a breath of hesitation, and Joker finally replied, the voice further away from Yusuke than it used to be.

“No.”

“Hm.” Mune didn't sound convinced, and Joker laughed sadly.

“He was just…” Joker hesitated, and began to walk away from Yusuke. “He's beautiful.”

“There you go again.” Mune replied, and the rest of his sentence was muffled as the two left out the front doors, sliding it shut behind them. Yusuke's eyes flew open, and he panted heavily, sitting up in his seat to gape at the front doors, his hand coming up to his forehead where Joker's fingers had brushed his skin.

It felt like Joker was wearing gloves, he realised, but the softest contact of silk against his skin felt like it burned him past the layers of his skin, and straight into his blood, into his brain.

Yusuke felt his cheeks turning burning hot.

Joker said he was beautiful.

He shook his head. A pair of suspicious people, or a pair of guards that simply brought his teacher home. That was it.

He turned the light back on, and he turned to look at the coffee table to see a single gambling chip on the coffee table. His eyes widened, and his blood turned to ice as he dove towards the table, his hands shaking as he picked up the chip.

“N-no…” his voice trembled, as he looked it over, and the name of the casino it came from was emblazoned on it in capital letters:

_THE METAVERSE CASINO_

Yusuke's heart shattered in his chest, and every breath felt like the shards stabbed into his lungs.

He hurriedly closed up, and then dragged himself into his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Jelly-boned, he collapsed onto his bed, and his hand reached for his phone without him thinking of it.

He dialled the Devil's number, and he could hear her smirk in her voice when she said hello.

“Ohya-san,” he panted, “I'm moving out of Stockholm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 3 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> At the limelight, he saw a young man and a woman—both were wearing masks, and were standing together in a very… _intimate_ position. The woman—a blonde, with her hair up in pigtails and her body a perfect hourglass emphasised by her body-hugging dress, fire red and eye-catching. Her face was hidden by a red catlike mask, and her blue eyes shone brighter thanks to the shadows cast on her face. She had her back pressed to the young man's chest, her arms raised to bury her pink-gloved hands in his dark, wild curls. 
> 
> The young man was dressed in a long coat that hugged his body to leave no room for modesty. It flared out behind him like a skirt, and much to Yusuke's surprise, he was wearing stiletto boots. His hands, covered with blood red gloves, were on her body, one hand at the curve of her waist, and the other planted firmly between the blonde's supple breasts. 
> 
> Yusuke's blood boiled with desire under his skin.
> 
> The young man's mask was familiar. His body, though fully clothed this time, was familiar. 
> 
> This was the masked prostitute haunting his canvas.


	3. la tanière du péché

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the lair of sin)
> 
> Yusuke _hated_ The Metaverse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 4th of july.................... to all those who celebrate it..................... i celebrate it as an oc's birthday but y'know, whatevs man :^)))
> 
> so okay just a heads-up to those people who preferentially prefer certain ships over others, do remember that akira is a sex worker. he will be getting hot and heavy with several people ~~and let's face it i made this au to put him a.) sexy clothes, b.) sexy situations, and c.) mob/akira is an... _interest_ over at pixiv and it's rather... _interesting_ to explore~~ and will be both implied and described to be doing sexy things with several people. it's part of the job. 
> 
> if you're looking for shukita porn, it's not gonna be coming anytime soon. (i'm on chapter 14 right now at 30k++ words and no cigar my dudes. 
> 
> but some good news! i'm now going to change the update schedule from Tuesdays to Tuesdays and Fridays, so updates will be coming twice a week now! Hurray(?) for updates! i do believe i'm nearing the end of the story while i'm typing it so i hope you all enjoy the ride.
> 
> (oh, and by the way, Joker has no idea about Ohya and her Plans™.)
> 
> anyway as usual there's a preview in the end notes and it features a dear pleasant boy close to my heart

“The Metaverse Casino is an exclusive sort.” Ohya said, tugging at the red cravat at his throat. “Members-only, but even then you'd need certain _connections_ to get a member's card.”

Yusuke gulped. “You assured me before we came here that you had everything sorted out.”

“And I have, don't worry,” she grinned. “Okay, put this on, and let's see the whole thing?”

She handed Yusuke a white fox mask, and he hesitantly put it on. She gave him an appraising look, and she nodded.

“You look hot.”

“Ohya-san…” Yusuke sighed, and she snickered.

“I mean it.” She said, patting his back heavily. In front of them, the driver sighed deeply, and Ohya's snickers evolved into guffaws. “Seiji-kun, shut up and drive.”

Yusuke looked out the window, a forlorn expression on his face as the lights went by. Almost a week had passed since he called Ohya to make a deal with the devil, and since then he had met with her several times over that week to get things sorted out. She took his measurements, listened to his fashion preferences, and now with his teacher out again, she told him it was time for them to act.

He wrung his hands—wrapped in blue silk gloves, of all things—and bit his lip nervously.

“Okay, to recap: in The Metaverse Casino, guests have these membership cards that keep track of their credits and acts as an ID for entrance clearance to places around the casino. My informant there got you access privileges the same as your teacher’s.” She handed him a card, which he slid into the pocket of his coat.

“How much of the casino will I be able to access?” Yusuke asked, and Ohya grinned at him wryly.

“All of it.” She said. “Your teacher earned his way there.”

The young man scowled. She laughed dryly.

“Oh, yeah. Anyway, the members don't use their real names in the casino, and everyone wears masks. Madarame's code name is Azazel.”

“What would mine be, then?” Yusuke asked, and Ohya shrugged.

“What do you want?”

Yusuke frowned, and hummed in thought. “Da Vinci.”

“No!” The driver, Seiji, wheezed. “Man, when Ichiko-chan said you were weird, she wasn't lying.”

Yusuke shot the man a dry look.

“Something sexier.” Ohya nodded, and he sighed.

“Fox?” He ventured, “It's my mask's design, and as far as I know, in popular media, foxes are considered rather sexual metaphors—”

“Yes!” Ohya crowed. “Good boy!”

He looked at her witheringly. “Anything else?”

“Oh, you need to wear this,” she said, and she pinned a rose corsage to his suit jacket. “It has a camera in it, so try not to cover it up, okay?”

“Alright.” Yusuke sighed. “Ohya-san, why exactly is it that I have to be the one doing this?”

“Me and Seiji here both are banned from the club to begin with.” She shrugged. “Comes with the job.”

“Yes, I know that, but why _me_?”

“We needed someone with motivation.” She said, patting his arm. “You want to learn the truth, right? You wanna prove to yourself that it really is Madarame, a corrupt man, and not Madarame, your foster father and mentor.”

He blinked at her, surprised, and she gave him a withering smile. “I've seen that look in your eyes way too many times to count, kid.” She turned to look away from him to watch the road go by. “Trust me. The moment you feel unsafe in there, call me, and we'll get you out of there ASAP.”

Yusuke swallowed nervously. “I understand.”

The car came to a stop, and his heart plummeted to his stomach. Ohya patted his knee.

“Showtime.”

* * *

“Lord Azazel?” A masked man in a black suit approached a masked man in a gaudy kimono, and he raised his eyebrow at him, irritated.

“Yes?” He snapped.

“Your… charge is looking for you.” The man reported, and Azazel cocked his head.

“My _what_?”

“Y-your charge, sir? He claims you care for him?”

“Me? Care for some brat?”

“Ah, Sensei. Prickly as always.”

Azazel froze, and he looked up to see a young man in a white kitsune mask approaching him. He was in an expensive deep blue three-piece suit, a hand covered in blue silk pressed to his heart as he approached.

“Y-you…”

“Sensei.” The young man bowed to him respectfully. “It's me, Fox.”

“… Fox.” Azazel echoed, and Fox's pursed lips curled up into a knowing smirk. The old man blinked at him for a long moment, and he suddenly lit up. “Fox! It's most certainly a surprise to see you here!”

“Likewise,” Fox replied, “I was… curious about your recent ventures, and I must admit, I _was_ pleasantly surprised about The Metaverse.” He reached into the inside pocket of his coat to pull out a gambling chip, held between two elegant fingers. “Your aides left this for you the last time you gamed.”

Azazel's eyes widened at the gambling chip, and he shooed the casino staff away. He hurried to stand close to the young man, and when he made sure no one would be able to listen to them, he leant in close to his student.

“Yusuke, are you here to gamble?” He hissed quietly, and Fox chuckled darkly.

“That _is_ what people do when they come here, yes?” He replied, pulling away from his teacher. “I, personally, have very little experience in gambling, but the pull of the vice is sweet and strong.” He gave the man another bow. “I will be relying on you to teach me, as you have the ways of art.”

Which, frankly, wasn't a lot, but Ohya had told him to play up to the man's vanity, something he himself had to reluctantly agree with.

“Well, well, Fox,” Azazel seemed pleased. “Perhaps you _can_ be of some use to me, even here.” He nodded, tucking his hands into his kimono's sleeves. “Come, then. There is much you should learn.”

* * *

Yusuke _hated_ The Metaverse.

The air was thick, the noise was at times _too much_ , and the blatant display of sinful desires made his stomach turn. There were scantily-clad young men and women—all wearing masks—draped over patrons as they played, and the lingering smell of cigarettes, liquor, sweat and sex underlay the saccharine perfume of the casino's scent.

Yusuke was grateful for his mask, it covered the grimace that was surely on his face, as he hovered behind his teacher, gambling like it was his second nature. Laughter and raucous hooting spread around the tables, and Yusuke wondered how could people find something so rotten so _desirable_.

What Yusuke hated the most was the fact he found himself looking for the young man in the cheongsam. His eyes kept searching the crowd for that smooth, smooth back, the curling black hair—

“Ah, Fox, look! The finer entertainment has begun!”

Yusuke turned violently at Madarame's hand on his arm, and the old man laughed. “Worry not!” He said, and Yusuke could smell the alcohol in his breath. So _that_ was why he was affectionate. “I'm sure they'll take to you very, _very_ well! You're beautiful, just like your mother was!”

Yusuke's cheeks turned red at his comment, and the memory of Joker's voice in his head resurfaced, unbidden.

_“He's beautiful.”_

“I'm wearing a mask, sensei.” He deadpanned, as the lights grew dimmer, and he jumped when spotlights turned onto a stage he hadn't noticed. At the limelight, he saw a young man and a woman—both were wearing masks, and were standing together in a very… _intimate_ position. The woman—a blonde—had her hair up in pigtails and her body was a perfect hourglass emphasised by her body-hugging dress, fire red and eye-catching. Her face was hidden by a red catlike mask, and her blue eyes shone brighter thanks to the shadows cast on her face. She had her back pressed to the young man's chest, her arms raised to bury her pink-gloved hands in his dark, wild curls.

The young man was dressed in a long coat that hugged his body to leave no room for modesty. It flared out behind him like a skirt, and much to Yusuke's surprise, he was wearing stiletto boots. His hands, covered with blood red gloves, were on her body, one hand at the curve of her waist, and the other planted firmly between the blonde's supple breasts.

Yusuke's blood boiled with desire under his skin.

The young man's mask was familiar. His body, though fully clothed this time, was familiar.

This was the masked prostitute haunting his canvas.

Unseen, a young girl's voice began singing a song Yusuke couldn't recognise, and the two masked people began to sway together in a slow, sensual dance that made the hairs on Yusuke's nape stand. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't tear his eyes away from how the young man's hands roamed the woman's body, how her hands mussed his hair, tugged at his clothes. Their bodies undulated together in a way that it looked like they were making love on stage, instead of dancing, and if Yusuke didn't know any better, he would have sat down and simply sketched their beautiful, fluid bodies, fighting to capture the smoothness of their movements with charcoal on paper.

“Fox,” Madarame snapped his fingers in front of Yusuke's face, and the young man jumped and finally snapped out of his trance. “Ah, it's your first time seeing them. It is unsurprising you'd be as enthralled as those inexperienced fools in the regular members lounge.”

“I-I,” Yusuke felt the need to apologise for committing such a horrid mistake, but Madarame chuckled and patted his hand.

“No matter. I was the same when they first appeared to me as well.” He said, “But that is not what is important. Observe.”

The dealer, the same long-haired young woman with goggles that Yusuke saw in Ohya's photograph, grinned at Madarame and handed him a card, while the other people at the table were transfixed on the dancers on stage. Yusuke bristled at the blatant cheating, while Madarame handed her a card from his hand, before gesturing at a practically-drooling man across him.

“Samael sends his regards to the gentleman in blue.” He said, and the dealer snickered.

“GG,” she replied, and Yusuke cocked his head at her. “Yeah, I'll hand it over to the noob.”

Much to Yusuke's shock, she reached forward to pick up the card he had set down on the table, and replaced it with the card Madarame had given her. When she was done, she cleared her throat, and like magic, the entire table's attention was back on her.

“I know Joker and Panther are crazy hot, but we've got a game to run. It's time for the showdown.”

“Showdown?” Yusuke echoed, and Madarame laughed softly.

“Pay attention, Fox.” He chuckled, before turning over his cards. “Four of a kind.”

“Bullshit!” The man in the dark suit where the dealer had cheated with cried, “Azazel, that was the last of my—”

“It would be prudent to think twice about outright facing a high limit player,” a masked woman in a beautiful, revealing gown and black hat chuckled, approaching their table, and Madarame lit up.

“Ah, Leviathan!” He cheerfully said, getting up from his seat with Yusuke's help. The young woman chuckled and approached him, and Madarame kissed her proffered hand. “You're rather late today?”

“Work,” she sighed, and she looked at Yusuke. “Oh? And who might you be?”

She offered him her hand, and Yusuke followed his teacher's example and kissed it. “I am Azazel's charge. You may call me Fox, milady.”

“Well-mannered, I see.” She chuckled. “Aiming to be a high limit player?”

“If luck permits me to be.” Yusuke replied neutrally, and Leviathan nodded sagely.

“You answer very well, too.” She said. “Azazel, will you join tonight's High Limit game?”

“Oh, I may,” Madarame replied, “But I think my protege will be able to substitute for me accordingly.”

“S-Sensei?” Yusuke gasped, and Leviathan laughed.

“Ah, relying on good old beginner's luck!” She nodded. “I look forward to tonight's game, then.”

She gave the two of them a small wave, and sauntered off, right as Joker and Panther's dance ended.

Yusuke gulped. Speaking of which—Joker. One of those two people came into his house the other night with the man named Mune.

“Now, then, Yusuke.” Madarame grinned, “Follow me, and make sure you remember the rules of poker correctly.”

The two of them strode through the casino to head to another set of poker tables, and Madarame patted Yusuke’s side.

“Firstly—there are no Wild Cards in The Metaverse Casino. The Joker card does not exist in any of the games we play.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 4 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Tonight is a two-game battle for the biggest prize tonight!” Oracle announced grandly, “5,000,000 yen worth of credits!”
> 
> The crowd tittered excitedly, but Crow laughed again. 
> 
> “Not high-stake enough.” He said, and Yusuke gaped at him. “Samael would be disappointed with just that prize, don't you think?”
> 
> “Because you know him so well.” Leviathan deadpanned, and Yusuke felt like he missed something very, very important. 
> 
> Crow didn't seem fazed. “Let's raise the stakes a little more, shall we?” He said, and with the snap of his fingers and the flutter of his hand, a pair of casino staff dragged in a disgruntled-looking Joker. 
> 
> Yusuke's eyes widened, and his hand curled into a tight fist on his lap under the table. He watched as the staff plopped Joker onto Crow's lap, and the black-haired young man glowered at the brunet. 
> 
> “An evening with the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse Casino,” Crow said softly, running his hands over Joker's body, and Yusuke felt his pants tighten uncomfortably as Crow pulled down Joker's coat to reveal the shirt he was wearing underneath was a halter top.


	4. l'épreuve de force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the showdown)
> 
> He had questions for Joker. An evening with him would prove fruitful for him—
> 
> And he saw the look on Joker's face—or, at least, what he could see of it. 
> 
> It made Yusuke want to save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (muffled yelling) my thesis adviser is trolling me hard i'm weeping
> 
> so anyway as i promised, updates are now twice a week because i kinda just wanna get them out there instead of waiting for it. :''^)))) i hope you enjoy this one, even if it's a little shorter than the others.
> 
> honestly i thought of this story because of this poker game they play, the rest is just...... what followed after i thought of the concept............. idk man that's how i roll apparently
> 
> So, just in the case people needed the reference:  
>  **Asmodeus:** Kamoshida  
>  **Azazel:** Madarame  
>  **Bael:** Kaneshiro  
>  **Samael:** Shido  
>  **Leviathan:** Sae Nijima  
>  I used their boss fight names. ouo I'm pretty sure you all know who Joker, Oracle and Crow are. :^)
> 
> anyway! among other things, if anyone's interested, i am doing commissions! not just for p5, but all the other fandoms listed in my AO3! for more information, just look [here](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/850004702959775744)! ~~please guys i have a plan to cosplay f!joker at a con this july 29 while i support my best friend in her tabling efforts i,, , , ,, need, ,, , funds,,,~~
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

The long-haired dealer's code name was Oracle, Yusuke found out later, when Madarame slipped her a five thousand-yen tip. He tried not to ogle the money she pocketed, snickering, and focused his sights elsewhere—Leviathan's imposing hourglass silhouette and the smooth expanse of her back, decorated with a tattoo, Panther making rounds at other tables, giggling sweetly and slipping bills in her exposed cleavage, and in slips of skin revealed by her dress.

Oddly, Joker was missing, and Yusuke found himself looking for the black-haired young man even after he was suddenly seated at a poker table. He jumped when he felt Madarame's hand on his shoulder, and he whirled around to see his teacher grinning at him.

“I hope you will bring me that sweet beginner's luck, Fox,” he said, patting Yusuke's shoulder heavily. “It is time for the High Limit special, and the battle is always _grand_.”

Yusuke swallowed nervously. He had only a base knowledge of poker, thanks to Madarame—and later on, Leviathan's, teaching, but he had never played the game himself.

“I-I will do my best,” he replied, and that seemed like a good enough answer for his mentor. His nod did nothing to placate him, however, when a large crowd suddenly began gathering around them.

They had an _audience._

One by one, different well-dressed masked individuals sat at the table, Leviathan taking a seat next to Yusuke with a friendly, familiar smile, black lipstick painting a sinister grin wearing the skin of friendship. The others, Yusuke couldn't recognise, but much to his surprise, a red-masked young man in a white suit around his age sat down at the spot across him.

“Oh, is Samael unavailable for the evening?” One of the masked people asked—a broad-chested man with his shirt open, allowing Yusuke to see the hint of curling chest hair. He resisted the urge to retch.

“Unfortunately.” The masked young man shook his head. He had an oddly pleasant voice, sweet and soft-spoken, and if Yusuke had met him elsewhere he would have never guessed he would show up in a place like this. “As usual, I shall play in his place.”

“Oh, Crow,” another man, rotund with a vest that had buttons stretched to their limits around his midsection, snickered, “You're so good at the game, you may just be a High Limit player all on your own!”

“I couldn't possibly, Bael.” Crow replied with a lighthearted chuckle. “I like gambling because of the deceit you have to uncover. The mystery you have to see past.”

“Ah, never goes for the money, this one.” Leviathan muttered like a stage whisper, crossing her leg over the other as she leant back in her seat. Yusuke looked at her confusedly, and looked at Crow again to see the young man shake his head fondly.

“The same goes for you, though, right, Leviathan?” Crow replied, and only then did he spot Yusuke. When their eyes met he resisted the urge to jump, and Crow's smile widened into a friendly, welcoming one. “Oh, I see we have a new member joining us tonight. Pardon my manners, I am Crow. It's nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Yusuke replied. “I am Fox, and I am here on behalf of my teacher, Azazel.”

Behind him Madarame preened. “Forgive me, my friends. Out of my sheer delight to see my student sees me eye to eye, I have decided to have him play in my place, as Crow does for his master.”

Crow's laugh was the tinkling of sleigh bells.

“Very well.” He nodded. “To the victor, Fox.”

“To the victor.” Yusuke nodded, and he was glad he didn't stutter.

Oracle walked to her proper spot and grinned at all those present at the table. “We all here?” She asked, and when she took a look around the table, she nodded. “Alright, first, your hole cards.”

She dealt two cards each to each player at the table, placing them face-down in front of each player. Bael made a move to reach for them, only to have his hand slapped down by Oracle.

“Uh-uh. Rules, first.”

“I _know_ how to play poker, Oracle.” He deadpanned, and she grinned at him impishly.

“Not this one.”

She shuffled the rest in her hands, and fixed the deck to set it down again neatly on the table.

“Tonight is a two-game battle for the biggest prize!” Oracle announced grandly, “5,000,000 yen worth of credits!”

The crowd tittered excitedly, but Crow laughed again.

“Not high-stake enough.” He said, and Yusuke gaped at him. “Samael would be disappointed with just that prize, don't you think?”

“Because you know him so well.” Leviathan deadpanned, and Yusuke felt like he missed something very, very important.

Crow didn't seem fazed. “Let's raise the stakes a little more, shall we?” He said, and with the snap of his fingers and the flutter of his white-gloved hand, a pair of hulking casino staff dragged in a disgruntled-looking Joker.

Yusuke's eyes widened, and his hand curled into a tight fist on his lap under the table. He watched as the staff plopped Joker onto Crow's lap, and the black-haired young man glowered at the brunet.

“An evening with the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse Casino,” Crow said softly, running his hands over Joker's body, and Yusuke felt his pants tighten uncomfortably as Crow pulled down Joker's coat to reveal the shirt he was wearing underneath was a halter top.

“C-Crow,” Joker protested, moaning helplessly when the young man cupped his crotch and rubbed it deliciously.

Crow murmured something into Joker's ear, and all the fight in him—what little of it he showed—drained out of him, and he reluctantly pressed closer to Crow's touch. “Good boy,” Yusuke heard him mutter, and Joker got off his lap to head towards an astonished Oracle.

He took two cards from her, hiding their faces immediately by pressing them together.

“I'll hide them,” he said, and Oracle shook her head.

“But Joker—”

“ _Oracle_.” Crow said pointedly, and the young woman pursed her lips.

“Fine.” She muttered, and Joker sauntered off into the staff corridors of the casino, the staff at his heels. Yusuke frowned at the sight—he knew what they were there for, and it wasn't for Joker's safety.

It was probably to make sure he wouldn't run away.

“Okay, time to amend the rules slightly, _I guess._ ” Oracle seemed to glower at Crow, her eyes hidden by her goggles, but if she had any sense of basic human decency, she _would_ be mad at Crow. “As you can see, we took two cards from the entire deck. The objective of tonight's game is to have two people figure out what these two cards are.”

Crow was outright _smirking._

Yusuke was beginning to seriously reconsider his opinion of the young Crow.

“Each round progresses like the usual Hold'em Poker, you got your cards, the rounds of betting, the works,” she said, “But we have an additional feature—you can guess what card Joker is hiding, and where on his body he is hiding it. Anyone who guesses correctly will automatically win the round, and advance to the next game to play for the grand prize.”

She spoke with a grimace under her mask and thinly-veiled disagreement under her voice. “During every round, aside from dealing your cards and casting bets, you can do two other things:” she held up a finger. “One, make a chip payment, which will be added to the betting pool, for a clue from Joker as to where he hid his cards.”

She seemed to be staring intently at Crow as she spoke. “And it his prerogative to either lie, or give a truthful clue.”

“Very well.” Crow nodded gracefully.

That seemed to placate Oracle somewhat. The man still unnamed to Yusuke smirked widely at Crow, and Yusuke could see him sit with his legs far apart. He licked his lips, and Yusuke felt a shiver go down his spine.

“Disgusting man,” Madarame said disdainfully under his breath from behind Yusuke, and the young man was inclined to agree.

“The other thing you can do is bet all the chips you have on you to make a guess on where and what the card is.” The crowd's murmurs grew into excited tittering, and Yusuke swallowed nervously. The stakes were tremendously high, he thought, but he couldn't lose now. He needed to gain Madarame's trust to investigate the casino further with Ohya and her associates.

That, and he had questions for Joker. An evening with him would prove fruitful for him—

And he saw the look on Joker's face—or, at least, what he could see of it.

It made Yusuke want to save him.

With the way Oracle and Crow quietly bickered, the silent yet staggering difference between him and her was a terribly tremendous peak. Yusuke knew, somehow, the casino was wrapped—rather forcefully—around Crow's little fingers, and by extension, his master Samael, whoever he was.

Yusuke couldn't just _want_ to save Joker—he _needed_ to.

“The game will end when two people successfully guess the cards, or when all the players have lost their chips.” Oracle ended, and Yusuke gulped.

This was it.

“Well then, shall we begin?” Crow said pleasantly, and Oracle grumbled.

“Pick up your hole cards.” She deadpanned. “Place your bets, gentlemen.” She paused, and looked at Leviathan. “And Leviathan.”

“Thank you, Oracle.” She chuckled softly, and pushed forward a small tower of chips.

“Leviathan has placed her bet.” Oracle announced.

Crow pushed forward a slightly taller tower of chips.

Oracle grumbled. “Crow has placed his bet.”

Bael threw forward some chips, and Oracle eyed him disdainfully. “Bael has placed his bet.”

The unnamed man also pushed forward a tower.

“Asmodeus has placed his bet.”

Madarame squeezed Yusuke's shoulder. “Play it safe for now, boy. This will drag on quite a bit.”

Yusuke nodded, and pushed forward a modest tower of chips.

“Inari has placed his bet.” Oracle drawled, and Yusuke frowned at her.

“That is not my name.”

“You're a noob playing at a High Limit table, _Inari_.” Oracle deadpanned. “I'm not calling you by any feeler nickname until you _earn_ your seat.”

Yusuke met eyes with her, her eyes barely visible behind the red lens of her goggles.

“Very well,” he huffed. “We shall see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 5 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> All eyes were on him, now, and he swallowed nervously. Joker's eyes were catlike, and in the shadow of his mask, Yusuke thought they were beautiful, glinting grey and red in the fluorescent, saturated neon of the casino. 
> 
> “Well, Fox?” He asked, Yusuke's nickname rolling off his tongue like honey, full lips curling around the syllable like a whispered sound drowned in pleasure. 
> 
> “Four of a kind.” He said, setting down his tens, and Leviathan's red lips curled up into a wide, approving grin. 
> 
> “We have a winner.” She said, and Oracle's smirk widened. 
> 
> “So this is the magic of beginner's luck, huh.” Oracle said, gathering the chips to push towards Yusuke. “Let's see if this continues.”
> 
> As she gathered the cards to shuffle again, Madarame happily clapped Yusuke's shoulder, laughing. He was saying something, but Yusuke couldn't listen to him, not when his eyes met Joker's, and the prostitute gave him a long, appraising look, Cupid-bow lips painted red curled up into a sexy, predatory smirk.
> 
> Yusuke swallowed nervously. 
> 
> An evening with the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse. Anyone would be lucky just to simply get a _glimpse_ of Joker's full, naked beauty. 
> 
> But to _touch_ …
> 
> Yusuke shivered, and Joker chuckled lowly, before turning to flirt with someone else. Yusuke didn't mind, instead tearing his eyes away from the smooth, smooth expanse of Joker's back to stare at the poker table, panting. His trousers felt tight, and his face was like it was on fire.


	5. le renard triomphant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the triumphant fox)
> 
> “I am going to say where and what the other card is.”
> 
> She grinned at him. “Not even guessing, Inari?” She asked, but she took all his chips anyway. Joker looked at Yusuke with a catlike smile on his lips, and he swallowed back his nerves. 
> 
> Behind him, Madarame looked on in nervous excitement. 
> 
> “Joker.” He said, his voice unwavering. Joker's grin was wide and knowing, and his eyes were dilated as they fixed on Yusuke. “The card you are hiding is the Joker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i wrote the poker game (and a bit of what follows) in thailand during a family trip there? my parents wondered why i stayed awake during the long car ride to pattaya and i told them i was... writing... things. they were a little worried about me asking about casinos, but thankfully i was too busy (and broke) to play there. speaking of which, thailand is lovely, i've missed it so dearly. haven't been there in over 10 years prior to my trip last june.
> 
> anYWAY SO THIS FIC WAS BORN BECAUSE PRECISELY OF THIS CHAPTER. SERIOUSLY. i just wanted to write this chapter but i ended up developing a fic instead. (at ch 15, it's currently at almost 35k. what. a behemoth.) sooo! I'm super thankful for all of you who enjoy this fic so far. I hope you continue supporting me! the comments really do a good number on my heart, thank you so much. chapters 6 and 7 are the longest ones in the fic so far, so hope you all look forward to that!
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!
> 
>  
> 
> ~~also, just a question: don't you think it's a tad problematic to be demanding of longer content from writers? just a thought. chapters can be shorter than others, it can't be helped. please don't ask for this to be longer, i certainly have had enough of reading and rereading my own shit. thank u and sorry if i sounded rude, just had to get this out.~~

Bael won the first round, and Leviathan the next, and somehow, Crow was still smirking throughout it all. Yusuke himself was feeling nervous, antsy as Madarame seemed to be fine with it, nodding with every hand Yusuke folded reluctantly. He peered at his teacher, thankful for the mask hiding his nervous features, but the old man was only nodding seriously, studying Yusuke's competitors carefully while they played.

The third round rolled by, and Joker finally emerged from the staff corridors, sans his coat and his trousers were replaced by a short, hip-hugging pencil skirt. He sauntered over to them looking terribly bored, leaning on Oracle's shoulder casually to watch them play. The young woman didn't seem to mind him, setting down the third round's turn card, and Madarame squeezed Yusuke's shoulder.

“Four of a kind.” He murmured, and Yusuke looked down at his cards.

Two 10's were in his hand, and there were two more on the table, the last one being the last card Oracle put down.

“Fold.” Asmodeus frowned, and he leant back in his seat. Crow chuckled softly, and Bael shook his head. Leviathan frowned, and pushed forward some chips.

“What do you think, Fox?” Madarame muttered to Yusuke, and his hand tightened nervously on his knee.

He could win this round—hopefully.

He pushed forward another tower of chips, and Leviathan smirked at him.

Oracle was smirking, too, and looked at the people at the table. “We done?”

“Yes.” Crow replied, and she nodded.

“And the river card.” She set down a Queen of Hearts, and Yusuke jumped when Joker suddenly sat down on the table's edge, right next to him, to pick it up.

His heart shot up to his chest when he realised Joker’s top was almost completely backless, and the smooth, smooth skin that had caught his eye the first time he saw it commanded his attention anew. Heat pooled under his skin, and his hands itched to touch the expanse of Joker’s smooth, smooth back—

He ripped himself free of his thoughts. No, he only loved Akira. Joker was a strong temptation, but he had to remain true.

“I spy a good hand worth winning.” Joker purred, grinning like he knew what Yusuke was thinking, and he shivered. Crow looked at him with mild interest, but Joker blew him a raspberry, and handed the Queen of Hearts to Yusuke. The young man blinked at him in surprise, and Oracle cocked her head at Joker.

“Hey, what?”

Crow's smile seemed insincere. “I fold.” He said, setting down a pair of nines, and Yusuke gaped at him.

“Two pairs.” Leviathan said, and Bael swore.

“I fold.” He growled, and Yusuke's heart shot to his throat.

All eyes were on him, now, and he swallowed nervously. Joker's eyes were catlike, and in the shadow of his mask, Yusuke thought they were beautiful, glinting grey and red in the fluorescent, saturated neon of the casino.

“Well, Fox?” He asked, Yusuke's nickname rolling off his tongue like honey, full lips curling around the syllable like a whispered sound drowned in pleasure.

“Four of a kind.” He said, setting down his tens, and Leviathan's red lips curled up into a wide, approving grin as Joker let out a cheer, getting up to walk around the edge of the table.

“We have a winner.” She said, and Oracle's smirk widened.

“So this is the magic of beginner's luck, huh.” Oracle said, gathering the chips to push towards Yusuke. “Let's see if this continues.”

As she gathered the cards to shuffle again, Madarame happily clapped Yusuke's shoulder, laughing. He was saying something, but Yusuke couldn't listen to him, not when his eyes met Joker's over the heads of his competitors. The prostitute gave him a long, appraising look, Cupid-bow lips painted red curled up into a sexy, predatory smirk.

Yusuke swallowed nervously.

An evening with the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse. Anyone would be lucky just to simply get a  _glimpse_ of Joker's full, naked beauty.

But to  _touch_ …

Yusuke shivered, and Joker chuckled lowly, before turning to flirt with someone else. Yusuke didn't mind, instead tearing his eyes away from the smooth, smooth expanse of Joker's back to stare at the poker table, panting. His trousers felt tight, and his face was like it was on fire.

Oracle dealt their cards, and a new round began as Joker settled down next to a previously-grumbling Asmodeus, who lit up at the sight of Joker lifting his leg to rest it on the man’s chair arm.

Yusuke folded after the turn card, and as Oracle got ready to set down the river card, Crow put his hand up.

“May I get a word in?” He said, and Joker glanced at him over his shoulder from where he had moved on from Asmodeus to sit on the table in front of Bael, long, toned legs braced on either side of his bulging stomach. Yusuke was surprised to realise Joker had changed out his boots for black stiletto high heels, the soles a burning red like the cheongsam he first saw Joker in.

“Yeah, Crow?” Oracle said, putting the river card back on top of her deck.

“I'd like to place a guess what and where the missing card is.” He said pleasantly, and Joker smirked at him.

“Give me everything, then.” He said, and Crow laughed pleasantly.

“Gladly.”

He pushed forward all his chips, much to Yusuke's surprise, and held his hand out at Joker. The prostitute laughed at him, shaking his head as he turned in his seat, raising both his legs to go over Oracle's head. She squeaked in alarm as she ducked to avoid getting hit, and Joker's heel landed gracefully on Crow's hand.

Yusuke jumped when Crow kissed his ankle, and Joker slid closer to him over the table to lean over the brunet.

“You have my _undivided_ attention.” He purred.

Crow got up from his seat, his own cards forgotten on the table, and cupped Joker's face in his hand.

“You are hiding the ace of spades.” He said, and his hand went back from Joker's cheek to his hair, carding his fingers through his curls like Joker was a beloved pet, before moving further back to the collar of Joker's halter top.

“And I believe, Joker, it is right here.”

He slipped his fingers underneath the cloth, and Joker shuddered as he drew out a playing card. Yusuke gaped as Crow pulled back to flip the card around for all at the table to look—

And much to Yusuke's disappointment, Crow was right.

Between his index and middle finger was the ace of spades, and Joker pulled back to clap his hands daintily.

“Well done, Crow.” he dryly said, but he didn't protest when Crow pulled him gently from the table, taking a seat again as he pulled Joker into his lap. “Of course you'd see right through me.”

“No, a lucky guess is as good as an educated one, in gambling. I just happened to have a bit of both.” He replied. “In the four rounds we have been playing, I haven't seen the ace of spades, and I deduced that was the card you were hiding.”

“And the hiding spot?” Joker asked, adjusting himself so his legs crossed over one another, and he wrapped his arms around Crow's neck, pulling himself close to him.

“A lucky bet that paid off very well.” He replied, his hand coming to a rest on the small of Joker's back, a few fingers slipping under his clothes. “And besides, my dear Joker, I've been… intimate with you for enough times to know what you like.”

Yusuke found it hard to look away, his mind shutting down at the implications of Crow's words.

So he had seen Joker— _all_ of Joker—more than a few times already.

Oracle grumbled in annoyance, and pushed the chips in the middle towards Crow.

“As per the rules of the game,” she said reluctantly, “Crow wins this round, and now qualifies for the final.”

“Ah, thank you.” He smiled pleasantly, petting Joker as Oracle went on collecting the cards to shuffle. Much to Yusuke's surprise, their eyes met, and Crow's smile sharpened into a triumphant smirk.

Oh, so  _that's_ how he wanted to play, did he?

Madarame patted Yusuke's shoulder heavily.

“Win the grand prize for me, Fox, and you can have Joker tonight as a reward.” He murmured into Yusuke's ear, and he nodded determinedly.

“Sensei, you didn't have to tell me to.” He replied, and he heard Leviathan chuckle amusedly. Madarame grinned, and Yusuke looked at the woman next to him. “Is there anything wrong, Leviathan-san?”

“No, nothing is.” She said, “I simply pity the men who fall for the wiles of a harlot like Joker.” She took a sip of champagne she had waved over earlier. “But if I won the grand prize, I'll remember to let you enjoy what The Metaverse has to offer with regards to the more… physical enjoyment.”

She was talking like Joker was a thing, and Yusuke's blood boiled under his skin.

“I will earn his evening with my own merit.” He replied, bristling, and Madarame chuckled.

“Ah, my Fox has decided to bare his fangs. You bring me pride both in and outside of the casino.”

As Madarame and Leviathan shared a laugh, Yusuke deflated. That was the voice of his foster father, his _teacher_ he grew up with, yet here in the smoky depths of a flashy, sinful casino, it only echoed hollowly in Yusuke's ear.

This was no loving father. This was a demon wearing the mask of one.

His eyes prickled with tears, but he blinked them back as he turned his attention to Oracle dealing a new set of cards, the Ace of Spades now back in its rightful place among the others.

Unbeknownst to him Joker eyed him carefully from his perch on Crow's lap, and his frown went unnoticed by all on the table as a new round of betting began.

* * *

In the rounds that followed, no one bought a clue from Joker, none of them willing to after Crow had guessed successfully without one. The whole time, Joker was on Crow's lap, sitting disinterestedly as he let Crow's hands wander over him, petting and stroking what skin he could get away with, and Yusuke didn't know if he should pity him or not.

Bael won another round, Asmodeus his first, and Yusuke and Leviathan won one more round each. Crow won two consecutive ones after that, and only then did something interesting pop into Yusuke's head.

He watched Crow count the chips he won with Joker, and Yusuke realised Joker's halter top came loose around his chest. He watched as Joker pressed his hands to his heart as Crow pulled him closer by the waist, and Yusuke frowned. Why was Joker trying to keep his top on tight like that? He wasn't trying very hard earlier, performing with Panther, her hands slipping under his clothes and groping his pectorals like he did her breasts—

Yusuke wiped a bead of sweat from his temple with his handkerchief.

Not now, Yusuke, he thought, but an idea began forming in his head.

When it was his turn to bet, he pushed forward a small tower of chips.

“A clue from Joker, please.”

When you wanted something, after all, all you had to do was ask.

His words earned him condescending glances from Bael and Asmodeus, but Crow and Leviathan seemed to understand his intentions. Leviathan nodded in interest, and Crow seemed to hold Joker closer to himself.

Joker himself looked amused.

“The last card is a little close to my heart, Fox.” He winked at him, sensually running a hand down his chest, and Yusuke's mouth felt dry. “That's all.”

Crow looked relieved at that, and Joker giggled, kissing the hollow of his throat to leave a bright red lipstick smear on his pale skin. That seemed to placate the young man, but that only made Yusuke's suspicions turn into crystal clear solutions.

They had been playing for a while, and Yusuke kept a close eye on all the cards being set down. He wasn't concentrating too hard on winning—the grand prize was what he was after, and he  _had_ to get it.

All the cards were accounted for, all the suits of aces, ones all the way to tens, and with Leviathan presenting a royal flush of spades a few rounds back, he confirmed the royal pieces were also all complete.

Oracle made a move to deal the next card—the river card, when Yusuke stopped her again.

“I am going to say where and what the other card is.”

She grinned at him. “Not even guessing, Inari?” She asked, but she took all his chips anyway. Joker looked at Yusuke with a catlike smile on his lips, and he swallowed back his nerves.

Behind him, Madarame looked on in nervous excitement.

“Joker.” He said, his voice unwavering. Joker's grin was wide and knowing, and his eyes were dilated as they fixed on Yusuke. “The card you are hiding is the Joker.”

“Mm, is that so?” Joker slid out of Crow's lap, smooth and catlike, and he crawled across the table to sit slowly, sensually down on Yusuke's lap, rubbing his ass against his crotch.

“You know, Fox,” Leviathan said, “The Joker isn't used in poker games in The Metaverse.”

Yusuke's blood went cold. He _knew_ that, but there was something odd about what Oracle had said at the start of the game.

_“We took two cards from the entire deck.”_

_The entire deck_ meant the deck from the box, regardless of whether or not the cards were used in the game.

Joker's smirk widened, and cuddled closer to Yusuke. “So, handsome, where would I have hidden it, if it was the Joker?”

Joker suddenly took his hands, and pressed them to his sides, moaning headily as he pressed his bare back against Yusuke's chest. Joker's erotic voice and actions knocked the wind out of Yusuke's lungs, but he had to concentrate.

What he'd give to paint Joker in the throes of pleasure, he thought, but he shook his head to clear it.

He gently pushed Joker off him, getting up, and the young man blinked at him in surprise before yelping in shock as Yusuke pulled him close, and dipped him.

“Here,” he panted breathlessly, and he pressed his palm right against Joker's sternum. “Here is the Joker, close to your heart.”

There was a brief moment of stunned silence, and Joker suddenly laughed, easy and teasing.

“Am I mistaken?” Yusuke asked nervously.

“Yes and no.” Joker replied, taking his hand and—much to Yusuke's shock—moved it lower to grope his ass, hiking his leg up against Yusuke's side. “Firstly, your hands feel so much better on naughty, naughty places.” He said, pulling Yusuke close so their crotches pressed hotly together.

“S-secondly?”

“Secondly,” Joker chuckled, leaning up until their faces were close— _so close—_

"We have a second winner." He said, and the hall exploded in cheers as Joker suddenly pulled him in for a rough kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 6 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> “I'm not some _thing_ you can tote around!”
> 
> The man huffed. “Say that again when you're not squirming on my shoulder.”
> 
> Joker growled, and pulled up his skirt to his waist, revealing black lace panties. He ignored the sudden boggle-eyed stares he got for it to turn himself violently on the man's shoulder, kicking the other security guard in the back of the head. In his alarm, the guard holding Joker let his grip loosen, and the young man took this chance to roll off his shoulder. He landed cleanly on the floor, rolling easily out of harm's way and pushing himself off the wall to head back in the guard's space to knock his gun out of his hand. 
> 
> “Hey!”
> 
> Joker rushed in to punch him in the face, right against the jaw with a satisfying _thwack_. The man reared back in alarm and Joker hurried to pick the gun up off the ground. 
> 
> A smirk curled on Joker's lips. “As I was saying.” He drawled. “I'm not some _thing_ you can tote around.”
> 
> He cocked the safety off, and pointed the gun at them as they  
> struggled to their feet. 
> 
> “Now, you're going to listen to _me_.”


	6. lancer les dés

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (roll the dice)
> 
> “Ah, lucky.” Crow said pleasantly. “Though I should be rather ashamed of myself for making such a safe bet in the face of an underdog who takes greater risks than I do.”
> 
> That sounded vaguely insulting, but Yusuke was used to ignoring insults.
> 
> “Then be the better gambler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun(?) fact: since people liked akechi and yusuke's rivalry so much i had to remodel chapter 6 and 7 to include their dice game! i had intended to omit the dice game (because it's hard to write casino games, damn it) but since people wanted more of the crow/fox rivalry, i just had to put it in! admittedly, it was super fun, but i ended up splitting chapter 6 and 7 into 6, 7, and 8. more for you guys, i guess, haha! so this is still one of the longer chapters in the fic (followed by now-chapter 8) and i hope you all like the two-part dice game between crow and fox (feat. panther, queen and joker)!
> 
> man kakegurui has me by the balls, the protag girl is super... cute... especially when she goes batshit nuts... i love her...
> 
> in other news, did you know you can play poker with tarot cards, including the major arcana?
> 
> guess what the high limit special is the next time yusuke comes back to the metaverse... ~~and rip in pieces me because whoo boy it's a whole new round of Learning How To Gamble With Bukkun And Her Increasingly Worried Father~~
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

That had been his first kiss.

He had wanted to share that with Akira, not with… not with _someone like Joker._

As Joker pulled away, the casino burst into activity as betting pools finished up, the winners—those who bet on Crow or Yusuke to win—cheering brightly, but all that faded to background noise. Yusuke's disappointment radiated from the frown on his face, and Joker cupped his face in his hands, grinning widely as the two of them straightened up.

The red on his lips had diminished, and if Yusuke looked in the mirror later, he would have some of it on his own lips. Yusuke pulled away from Joker's hands, shaking his head as he headed straight for his teacher, and Joker's hands dropped to his sides as he gaped at Yusuke.

“H-hey, wait—” he began, but he was quickly swept away by Crow's arm around his waist, pulled into the crowd that wanted to see the other man advancing to the finals round.

Yusuke made a beeline for Madarame, who was cheering delightedly as casino staff handed him his card again. “Fox!” He cheered, pulling his student into a hug. “I'm proud of you, my boy!”

Yusuke's heart twisted painfully, worse than a knife into his chest, and every breath was a painful gulp that drowned him further in disappointment.

“Thank you, sensei.” He managed through grit teeth, and complete strangers—at least to Yusuke—rushed around them to congratulate them as well.

Yusuke simply wanted to crawl back into his futon and sleep. One heartbreak after another was simply inhuman at this point.

The crowd eventually loosened up, and Leviathan approached him, daintily clapping her hands. Beside her, Oracle stood with a tray of three flutes of champagne, and Leviathan took one after she stopped clapping.

“Amazing work, Fox,” she said, “Lucky and observant. You'll get very far like that.” She gestured at the flutes beside her on Oracle's tray. “Please, have one each. As a welcoming treat from me, for young Fox and my dear friend Azazel.”

“You are too kind, Leviathan,” Madarame replied, taking both flutes, and he pressed one into Yusuke's hand. “Come, my boy. Drink up to your victory!”

Leviathan nodded at him expectantly, and Yusuke reluctantly took a sip.

The champagne burned his mouth, his tongue and throat, and the heat pooled low in his belly. The taste was heavy ash after that, and Yusuke shook his head, handing the flute to his teacher, who gladly took it for his own.

“Not quite a drinker, is he.” She chuckled. “Not that it's a bad thing. A sober gambler is a crafty one.”

“Thank you.” He replied flatly. “Let's get the last game over with, please.”

“Eager, though!” Madarame nodded. “I'm glad I raised him well!”

You didn't raise me, he wanted to protest, the other students—now _gone_ —from the atelier did, but Yusuke simply pursed his lips shut.

“Oh, of course.” Leviathan nodded. “Oracle, if you please?”

“Right,” Oracle nodded. “Follow me, Azazel, Fox.”

Yusuke jolted at that, and Oracle grinned at him impishly, shrugging.

“You won a chance to fight for a night with good old Joker, fair and square.” She said. “That makes you a _man_ in my book.”

Yusuke deflated at that. That was right—he had been fighting to save Joker, too, but his disappointment loomed like a storm cloud above his head.

“You have my thanks.” He said quietly, and Oracle elbowed him lightly.

“He likes you, y'know.” Oracle said, as the three of them headed for the dice game tables.

Yusuke snorted. “Is that not what he's supposed to be doing?”

“Well, yeah,” she said. “But you're different.”

Yusuke rolled his eyes. “And how do you propose your certainty to me?”

She blinked at him, and her eyes, he realised, were rather big behind her goggles.

“I just know him that well.” She said, “He's like a brother to me, after all.”

* * *

In the excitement and horror of getting dragged into his teacher's gambling addiction, Yusuke had completely forgone thinking about the staff.

_“He's like a brother to me, after all.”_

The casino staff were like family? At least, the entertainment staff were. And some of the High Limit players, if Leviathan and Oracle's light, playful banters during their game were anything to go by.

The implications were simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming. Joker, Panther, Oracle, and the other staff here, at least, had each other. Even with the cheating hands and the leering glances, they had allies they could count on.

Maybe Joker didn't really need saving.

As Yusuke sat down next to Crow at the dice game table, another masked woman in a three-piece suit stood in front of them, adjusting her white gloves and checking the dice on the table.

“Good evening.” Crow greeted Yusuke with a friendly smile, but after spending time with him at the poker table, Yusuke knew that smile held a hidden agenda.

“Good evening.” He nodded, and behind them a crowd gathered, Madarame and Leviathan at the front.

“Good to see you two gentlemen being civil,” the woman said suddenly, and Yusuke turned to look at her. She offered him a kind smile, and pressed a hand to her chest respectfully. “I am your dealer tonight, Mr. Fox. My name is Queen.”

“It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Yusuke replied politely, and Queen looked pleased.

“As is the same for me.” She said, before nodding at Crow. “Mr. Crow.”

“Hello, Queen.” Crow greeted pleasantly. “I'm here to play for Samael, as usual.”

“Of course.” Queen nodded. “Now, for Mr. Fox's sake, I will review the rules again.”

She dropped three dices into a shaker she picked up from the corner of the table, and shook them. They rattled pleasantly inside, and she tipped the shaker over to let the dice roll onto the table, rolling two threes and a four.

“Each round I will roll three dice. Prior to rolling, the players must place a bet on the total of the dice, and the man who is correct wins the betting pool.” She explained. “A bank, which I will oversee, will fill in the bet for the other options should you two choose the same outcome.”

She gathered the dice and put them back into the shaker. “This will be a best of five rounds competition, and as a High Limit special, it will have rounds increasing in difficulty.” She picked up a laminated card from a drawer underneath the table's surface, and set it down beside her. “Please look at the provided rule card for reference.”

Queen gestured at each numbered item as she spoke.

“The first round will offer two choices, between 4 to 10 or 11 to 17, excluding triples. The second, the option between an odd or an even total. The third, you will make a bet on the occurrence of doubles, and specify what that number will be.”

Yusuke swallowed nervously, but Crow seemed as cool as ever.

“The fourth round, you will bet on more specific total ranges, and the final round will require a specific total value.”

Queen smiled at them. “The cheat sheet is here if you're still confused about it.” She shook the shaker, and held her hand out at the two young men. “Now, let's begin the first round.”

* * *

Joker struggled in the security's grip as he was pulled along the staff corridors, already headed toward the manager's suite.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” He snapped, despite the gun pointed at his temple by another security man. “It's not decided if Crow will win!”

“He _will._ ” The gruff man said. “He's Samael's boy.”

“That's cheating!” He managed to worm his way out of the man's hand, but the man holding a gun to his head sighed and picked him up easily. “Put me the _fuck_ down, right now!”

“No can do, Joker. We've already received the order.”

“I'm not some _thing_ you can tote around!”

The man huffed. “Say that again when you're not squirming on my shoulder.”

Joker growled, and pulled up his skirt to his waist, revealing black lace panties. He ignored the sudden boggle-eyed stares he got for it to turn himself violently on the man's shoulder, kicking the other security guard in the back of the head. In his alarm, the guard holding Joker let his grip loosen, and the young man took this chance to roll off his shoulder. He landed cleanly on the floor, rolling easily out of harm's way and pushing himself off the wall to head back in the guard's space to knock his gun out of his hand.

“Hey!”

Joker rushed in to punch him in the face, right against the jaw with a satisfying _thwack_. The man reared back in alarm and Joker hurried to pick the gun up off the ground.

A smirk curled on Joker's lips. “As I was saying.” He drawled. “I'm not some _thing_ you can tote around.”

He cocked the safety off, and pointed the gun at them as they struggled to their feet.

“Now, you're going to listen to _me._ ”

They looked at each other nervously, and Joker jerked his head at them. “Eyes here, boys.” He drawled, reaching down to tug his skirt back to its previous length. It wasn't much, but running around with your lovely underthings exposed was still considered indecent, even if he had already spread his legs for most of the High Limit players—and then some.

“Is the dice game rigged?”

“A little.” One of the men said, and Joker glared at him.

“Down on your knees.”

“Oh, _yes sir._ ”

“I don't mean that in a sexy way.” Joker snapped. “Knees. Hands in the air.”

The guard who responded did as he was told, and Joker dug his stiletto heel into his foot. That earned him a yell of pain, and the other guard gaped at Joker as he turned his gun to him.

“Your turn. Answer properly.”

“Th-the table. Magnets, we were gonna magnetise the dice to the table to get the dice to stick at the right sides.”

Joker clicked his tongue. “Shido, you goddamn bastard.”

“There's—there's a way to turn it off!” The guard continued, and Joker glowered at him.

“You'd better make sure you're telling the truth.” He said, before smirking slowly. “Because, you know, good boys get rewarded generously.”

The guard's face broke into a wide, goofy grin.

“Show me the mechanism, big boy.” Joker purred, running a finger down the man's chest. “And I can show you how I can give someone a good time…” he slid his knee between the man's thighs, and he groaned in pleasure. “ _Intimately._ ”

“That's unfair.” His partner complained, and Joker laughed darkly.

“Good boys get rewarded for good deeds.” He said, lowering his gun carefully. “Hey, daddy,” The man still standing shivered in delight. “Cuff him to the pipes, so he won't interrupt us.”

“Yes, sir.” The guard cuffed his partner to the exposed water pipes, and Joker grinned.

“Oh, I'm gonna be bouncing on some good cock tonight.”

* * *

“12.” Queen declared, and the crowd burst into excited mutters. With a neutral smile on his face, Crow watched Queen push his tower of chips towards Yusuke, who had a nervous frown on his face.

Crow had won the first round, and now Yusuke had won the second. It felt like the game was being dragged on for all it's worth, and Yusuke had a bad feeling about this. The dice’s movement was unnatural, and just now, a three came out of a die suddenly toppling over from a four. Something felt _off_ here, and with the way Queen was frowning, it seemed like she knew it too.

Unlike Oracle, Queen schooled her expressions and reactions better. She was polite, few of words and soft-voiced, but he could see the way her hand balled into a fist when the four became a three.

Somehow, Queen was on his side, though she could do little but deal their chips and shake the dice.

“It's an even match now, isn't it?” Crow said pleasantly, leaning back in his seat, and Yusuke simply looked at him. “One to one score. Out of five games, it's quite the result, wouldn't you agree?”

“I suppose.” Yusuke nodded. “Though in games of pure luck like this one, it would be hard to clearly see a pattern for the outcome.”

“True.” the brunet nodded, as Queen finished tallying the bets placed on Crow and Yusuke. “Queen, how is the house faring?”

“Currently, the house bets are split.” She said, “Only a small fraction more for Mr. Crow, though that is because he is the veteran,” she gestured at Yusuke, “And you, Mr. Fox, are the underdog.”

“Ah, usually the underdog enjoys the favour of the crowds.” Crow smiled at Yusuke. “Perhaps their faith in you has weakened somehow?”

“That hardly matters.” Yusuke replied. “You do not need the support of others to win in games of pure luck.”

“Pragmatic.” Crow chuckled. “Though that is wise. I believe in the same.”

“Gentlemen, place your bets.” Queen said, “The third round is on doubles. The required minimum bet for players is three chips. The bank will place three-chip bets on values not selected.”

“No doubles.” Crow said, pushing forward a small tower of five chips, and Yusuke frowned. This was the round the two of them had to start playing safe—the chances of getting it right were one to 36—even smaller, if the no-double bet was included.

Well, gambling was all about taking risks, wasn't it?

“Double fours.” He said, pushing forward five chips, and Queen nodded, taking their chips.

“The bank bets on the rest of the values.” She said, before shaking the dice shaker. “The house may now place bets on the winner.”

The crowd around them murmured, and Crow sighed softly.

“Let's take this time to talk, shall we?” He asked, holding his hand out at Yusuke. “Again, greetings. I am Crow, and I represent the owner of this establishment, Samael.”

“I see.” Yusuke nodded, shaking his hand. “Similarly, I, Fox, represent my teacher Azazel.”

“It's a pleasure.” Crow said, “If you don't mind my asking, why come here today to The Metaverse? Azazel has never spoken of you, and it seems like you are a first-timer to the casino.”

“Frankly, it was out of curiosity.” Yusuke said. “After some investigation, I figured out my teacher was here on nights he was home late, and I was…”

Curious. Shocked. Disgusted.

“Somewhat jealous.” He bit out. Crow smiled slowly at him, dainty fingers on his lips.

“Ah, I see.” He said. “What were you jealous of? The money? The gambling?”

His smile widened into a smirk. “Joker?”

“Rolling,” Queen said, and the crowd fell quiet. Crow looked at the table with mild disinterest, and Yusuke held his breath as she rolled the dice out of their container.

Two ones and a six.

“Eight, double one.” She said, and if Yusuke wasn't listening closely, he would have missed the relief in her voice. “The bank takes the winnings.”

“Ah, lucky.” Crow said pleasantly. “Though I should be rather ashamed of myself for making such a safe bet in the face of an underdog who takes greater risks than I do.”

That sounded vaguely insulting, but Yusuke was used to ignoring insults.

“Then be the better gambler.” He said, and the crowd tittered around them, oohing at his response.

Crow’s smile seemed to chip off at the edges. So he wasn't as infallible as he showed himself to be.

“Joker would like a tongue like yours.” Crow replied carefully, “Masochist that he is, he would love a good insult or two.”

“The house is now split more unevenly.” Queen announced suddenly as the tension between Yusuke and Crow spiked, “The majority now place their bets on Fox.”

“Of course.” Crow nodded, “He had the closer guess this round.”

Queen’s frown looked disapproving, but she suddenly lit up. The crowd burst into excited murmurs, and Yusuke turned to see Panther sauntering over, a wide grin on her face.

“Evenin’, gents.” She greeted pleasantly. “Queen.”

“Panther.” Queen replied kindly, but her smile betrayed her joy at the blonde’s arrival. “Come to watch the game?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, leaning on the table on her elbows, and Yusuke gaped at the way her breasts pressed together. “So what's up? Anyone winning?”

“Neither of us have the upper hand, Miss Panther.” Crow said, pushing forward ten chips this time, and Yusuke narrowed his eyes at him. “Double fives.”

“Double fours.” He said again, pushing forward ten chips as well, and Crow’s smirk widened.

Queen took their chips, as before, unsmiling.

“Hey, Queen, gimme a smile?” Panther said, lying down on the table to smile up at the young woman sweetly. The brunette chuckled softly, and poked Panther’s nose.

“Off the table, Panther.” She said, though not unkindly, and she had a smile on her face. “The bank bets on the rest of the values.” Queen giggled softly when Panther blew a raspberry at her, but she got up off the table. “The house may now place bets on the winner.” Queen continued, gathering Crow and Yusuke’s chips, and Panther leaned on Yusuke’s shoulder.

Yusuke stiffened up nervously, but she giggled and ran her hands through his hair.

“Aw, relax, handsome. I don't bite.”

“Much.” Crow chuckled, and Panther whined cutely.

“Hey, I don't!” She protested, “Crow, don't be so mean!”

“Apologies,” he replied sweetly, “Of course it won't do for me to make a lovely lady like you cry.”

“Sweet talker.” She stuck her tongue out at Crow, who only laughed. “How about you, Fox? Have you made a lovely lady cry before?”

Yusuke remembered the girl he turned down back in high school, and how she simply deflated, smiling sadly as her eyes were welling with tears.

Akira had the same expression on his face when he rejected Yusuke’s request to paint him, and Yusuke’s chest ached.

“I have.” He replied, and Panther gasped.

“Ladykiller.” Crow chuckled. “Please, don't hurt Joker—though, Crown Jewels are often more beautiful shattered and broken.”

Yusuke's hand balled into a tight fist under the table, and much to his surprise, Panther squeezed it to calm him down.

“We've got you.” She whispered into his ear. “Don't worry. We’re on your side, Fox.”

He didn't know what to make of it.

“Much thanks.” He murmured back to her, and Panther beamed.

“Making plans?” Crow asked casually, and Panther giggled.

“I was asking if I could join him and Joker later for a ménage-à-trois.” She twirled her hair around her fingers, and Yusuke stifled his choke of shock at her words with a forced laugh. “He said no, though.”

“Oh, you're that sure you will win, Fox?” Crow asked, his tone right on the edge of icy, and Panther’s hand on his squeezed tighter.

“Well, yes.” Yusuke replied. “I can be the better gambler, after all.”

Crow’s smile finally fell, and he held a hand up at Queen before she could speak.

“Please, a moment.” He said. “I am raising my bet.”

He pushed forward another ten chips, staring Yusuke down.

Two can play at this game, then.

“So will I.” Yusuke said, and pushed forward his own ten chips.

The hall burst into raucous applause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 7 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> “You do realise that if Crow rolls a triple six, he will win automatically?”
> 
> “Yes.” Yusuke nodded. “ _Someone_ will have to win, regardless.” He answered Crow’s dominating stare with an even gaze, and he steeled himself. “There is, after all, no guarantee that either of us will get it right.”
> 
> Crow grinned at that, though he looked exhausted like Yusuke did. 
> 
> “Agreed.” He said. “To the victor, the spoils.”
> 
> Yusuke nodded in agreement, and Queen rolled the dice. 
> 
> Time seemed to stop, and Yusuke held his breath as the dice turned gently, bounced around for a moment—
> 
> “Ah.”
> 
> Queen's eyes were wide. Crow blinked, stunned, and Yusuke's blood ran cold.


	7. la défaite du corbeau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the crow's defeat)
> 
> “Treasure our Crown Jewel,” he said, and leaned closer to Yusuke's ear. “It will be the last time you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ngl highkey wanna kms but fic updates don't come up by themselves aNYWAY so here's the conclusion of the gambling segment (part 1!) and thank you all for the Wilde comments of joy, it really makes the research and effort worth it in the end. thank you so, so much, everybody.
> 
> next chapter we get to see yusuke and joker all alone in a suite together oh boy ;^) ;^) ;^) keep it together yusuke i know you can do it
> 
> anyway update on the google doc where the fic is being written, i've hit 44k words and i'm on chapter 19! you've all got a long way to go lmao
> 
> if I do manage to finish the fic, updates will go from Tuesday/Friday to Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday evenings, Philippine Standard Time. so cross your fingers I make it!
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

Joker’s head shot up at the sound of cheering, as beside him, the guard cocked his head at him.

“Something wrong, Joker?” He asked, stroking Joker’s side as the prostitute pressed closer to him.

“Oh, it's nothing serious.” He giggled sweetly. “Wonder why everyone's so noisy outside.” He hugged the man’s arm a little tighter, sighing. “It's gonna be hard to ride you if people are so noisy.”

“There's the broom closet.” The man replied, and Joker grinned.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” He nodded. “Oh, but first, lemme see that cheating machine thingy?”

“Of course. C’mon, this way.”

“Good.” Joker slowly pulled the gun away from where it was pointing at the man’s side to put it back in his coat pocket. “Get moving.”

* * *

“Fourteen, double sixes.” Queen said, and Yusuke remained silent, watching as Queen took all the chips in the middle of the table to push them towards a smirking Crow.

“My, that was a harrowing round.” He said pleasantly, inspecting a chip disinterestedly. He threaded it between his fingers deftly, black swimming between slim fingers in white silk, and despite his annoyance at the brunet gambler, he had to admit that Crow painted a rather beautiful picture like that—casually sprawled back in a plush armchair, leg crossed over the other as reddish eyes flickered from the chip to his competitor in cheeky challenge. “Five tries to get a definitive result. Samael would not take that lightly if I had lost that one.”

Yusuke looked at the chips he had left over. They were good for almost a million yen so far, but there were two more rounds to go through, and he didn't know if he would make it. Beside him Panther continued to lean on his shoulder, looking disinterested, but he knew she was nervous.

She kept squeezing his hand under the table, and he eventually began to squeeze her hand back to calm her down.

“The fourth round will have you place bets on more specific ranges of total values.” Queen said, “The ranges are in increments of three, so bets are for 1 to 3, 4 to 6, and so on, until 16 to 18.” She gestured at the two young men across her. “The required minimum bet for players is five chips. The bank will place a five-chip bet for every other value range that is not selected.”

Crow regarded the board for a moment, toying with the edge of his collar.

Yusuke had to beat him to it.

“7 to 9.” He said, pushing forward ten chips, and Crow glanced at him evenly.

“4 to 6.” Crow replied easily with a pleasant smile, pushing forward the same amount of chips, and Yusuke’s blood froze.

Somehow, he just _knew_ he made a mistake.

Panther held her breath.

“The house may now place bets on the winner.” Queen declared, and the crowd was shuffling excitedly around them.

“It was _fun_ playing with you, Fox.” Crow said, and Panther jumped when he suddenly spoke. “I do hope you come back and enjoy The Metaverse again soon.”

Panther bit her lip.

“No,” she hissed quietly. “He'll make it.”

Yusuke looked at her confusedly. _Who_ will make it?

* * *

“This one, daddy?”

“Mhm, that's the one, sweetheart.”

The guard’s hand was on his ass now, squeezing and kneading it as much as he wanted, but Joker let him be. He was used to the vulgar attention he got from the man, and no amount of words would have stopped him from doing exactly that anyway. Besides, there was the gun in his jacket pocket, and between him and a lumbering security guard, Joker knew the odds of him outrunning the man—even in heels—were highly likely.

He found himself grinning slightly—if Fox was busy gambling outside, Joker was busy with his own kind of gambling here in the staff corridors. They had kicked out the only person inside the room currently overseeing the dice game at gunpoint, but not without Joker taking from him the earpiece he had on him.

“Hmm.” Joker hummed, frowning as he brought the earpiece to his ear, and he heard Crow’s voice speak.

“ _4 to 6._ ” He said, and Joker’s expression tightened. So _this_ was how they were getting commands. “Okay.” He nodded, and suddenly left the guard’s side to approach the terminal, before spinning around in a graceful arc to destroy the terminal with a roundhouse kick.

“Holy shit!” The guard exclaimed, jolting back away from Joker. “Wh-what the—”

“Ahh, taking care of it properly would take too long, and I'm already craving cock.” Joker replied dismissively, sauntering over to the guard to sensually press his back against his chest. He ripped off the earpiece and threw it aside, giggling as he rubbed his ass against the man’s growing erection, and the guard groaned in approval. “Show me the closet, daddy? I can't wait to ride your cock.”

“Heh,” the man huffed, clearly pleased by Joker’s lip service. “You really are just some filthy whore, huh?”

“You _like_ it.” Joker purred, and the man nodded.

“Yessiree. C’mon, slut. You owe me a quickie.”

* * *

The dice rolled on the tabletop noisily, bumping against each other and the walls on occasion, and settled.

The air went still.

“Seven.” Queen said, relief in her voice. “Mr. Fox takes the winnings.”

Crow’s hand curled into a fist, shaking with shock. His eyes were wide at the dice on the table, and Yusuke heaved a sigh of relief as Queen collected the chips, and placed them in front of him.

“You are one lucky man,” Crow said, voice on the verge of a furious tremble, and Yusuke nodded.

“Gifted.” He said, and Panther heaved a sigh of relief.

“Jeez, this game is too much for my nerves.” She said, getting off Yusuke with a pat on his shoulder. “Good luck, guys. I'm going.”

She gave Queen a mock salute, one the brunette returned with a smile.

“Until later again, Panther.” She said, and the blonde sauntered away.

Crow stared Yusuke down as the house bidders collected their winnings, and Yusuke met his gaze evenly.

The floor was even now, he realised. The dice moved naturally again, and Crow’s shock told him everything. Somehow, someone, somewhere, managed to get rid of the game’s cheats.

Yusuke thanked his lucky stars for the help. He could do this, he thought.

Mother in heaven, he prayed quietly, may you help me now in my time of need.

* * *

Joker whistled pleasantly as he pulled the closet door shut, ignoring the shouts of the other security guard he left cuffed to a pipe as he headed back to the security room, where the computer was left shattered in sparking, fizzing pieces. He nonchalantly checked his Louboutin shoes—still impeccable, despite the damage they wrought on the computer—and nodded to himself, shutting the door quietly before running back to the gaming hall.

Hopefully he made it.

Hopefully Fox's luck would hold.

He burst out of the doors, panting softly, and he alarmed the staff and guests standing nearby. He gave them a beguiling smile, and straightened up as he made a beeline for the dice games.

“Joker!” Oracle called after him, and he turned to see her hurrying towards him, and he came to a stop to meet her.

“Oracle, what's happening with Fox and Crow?”

“C'mon,” she grinned. “You gotta see this.”

She took him by the hand, and together, they ran towards the dice game tables.

* * *

Joker's eyes widened at the sight of the two young men sitting in front of Queen, and her stern frown did not change in the slightest, though Joker saw her eyes dart towards him for the briefest of moments, before turning her attention back to her players. Fox and Crow were concentrated on the board, twin frowns of concentration on their faces.

“Fox—” Joker began, but Oracle hissed at him, smacking his arm lightly.

“Shut up!” She grinned, “Just look at them.”

Joker bit his lip, and watched as Fox straightened up.

“Three.” He said, and Joker's eyes widened.

“They're betting on _specific totals_ now?” He hissed, and Oracle shrugged.

“Super-duper Merciless Mode.” She said. “Best of 5 rounds, and this is round 5.”

Joker deflated. “The score?”

“Two-two.” She said. “Usually Crow would win at the fourth round, but it looks like you were _busy_ back there.”

“Hacked into the system.” Joker said proudly, and Oracle lit up.

“You finally picked up hacking?” She asked.

“I used the Louboutin method.” He said, tapping his heels, and she frowned.

“You just wrecked stuff.” She deadpanned.

“Bingo.”

“Very well,” Crow replied, and Joker and Oracle turned back to look at the two. “Eighteen.”

“Wait.” Joker frowned. “Are they—are they betting _triples?_ ”

“I guess,” Oracle crossed her arms. “Jeez, these boys. You know, they've been arguing. Like, sassing each other all cool-like. It's like I'm watching a spy movie.” She snickered, and elbowed him in the side. “Looks like they both _really_ want that night with you.”

“I'm glad.” Joker said softly, and Oracle spluttered.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did I just hear that right? _You_ , actually _want_ to sleep with some random guy?” She gaped at him, and Joker scratched his cheek.

“Well, Fox, he's…”

“Fox! Fox this, Fox that! He's been taking this casino by storm!” Oracle grumbled. “He only just got here and suddenly he's playing with Crow and the gang, what gives?”

Joker turned to gape at her. “He's only started playing today?”

“Yeah, he's playing for that Azazel kinda like how Crow is for Samael.” Oracle frowned, crossing her arms petulantly. “So don't get your hopes up too much, Joker. You might end up sleeping with the old geezer with the gold fetish instead.”

“No, not again.” Joker pouted, before looking at Fox. “But still, I want Fox to win.”

Oracle patted his arm.

“Then believe he will.” She grinned. “He's got some beginner's luck, I'll give him that.”

* * *

Yusuke was on edge.

The game was now perfectly fair—with nothing regulating how the dice fell, it fell to fate and fortune to decide who would spend an evening with Joker.

An unregulated last round meant honest betting. Three more rounds of the bank winning was thinning his confidence, and beside him, Crow looked just as withered as he did. The both of them had lost several chips to the bank now, and Queen, too, was getting worried. He had taken a risky gamble, betting on triple ones, but he had managed to lure Crow—now just out of sheer competitiveness—to bet on triple sixes.

“Well,” Queen looked worried for Yusuke, at least, and he nodded at her. “You do realise that if we roll a triple six, Mr. Crow will win automatically?”

“Yes.” Yusuke nodded. “ _Someone_ will have to win, regardless.” He answered Crow’s dominating stare with an even gaze, and he steeled himself. “There is, after all, no guarantee that either of us will get it right.”

Crow grinned at that, though he looked exhausted like Yusuke did.

“Agreed.” He said. “To the victor, the spoils.”

Yusuke nodded in agreement, and Queen rolled the dice.

Time seemed to stop, and Yusuke held his breath as the dice turned gently, bounced around for a moment—

“Ah.”

Queen's eyes were wide. Crow blinked, stunned, and Yusuke's blood ran cold.

Three obsidian dots sparkled against the pearly white dice, and the moment the last die landed to show a single dot, the dice game area burst into raucous applause.

Yusuke gaped at Crow, and then at Queen, who looked oddly relieved.

He'd won.

He had—

“Who is it? Who—”

Yusuke whirled around to see Joker, hair slightly more dishevelled and cheeks flushed from all the excitement around him. Their eyes met, and Joker's lips parted, though no sound came out.

“Joker, the winner of tonight's High Limit game is Mr. Fox,” Queen explained, and Joker lit up.

The prostitute's joy made Yusuke's stomach do somersaults.

The only other person who could do that to him was Akira.

Who _was_ this Joker, really?

“Oh, thank god.” He heard Joker breathe, “I made it.”

“Made it?” Crow echoed, but Joker was quick to ignore him in favour of hurrying up to Yusuke and hugging him. Crow gaped at Joker, and Yusuke froze, gaping at the prostitute as he pulled away.

“Will I see you later tonight?” He asked breathlessly, and Yusuke could only nod numbly. Joker's smile widened into a warm one, and Yusuke's heart skipped a beat. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Yusuke replied, and much to his surprise, Joker kissed him again and hurried off.

Yusuke stood in place, dazed, but he jumped when he felt Crow's hand on his shoulder. He turned to face him, and Crow's smile was carefully neutral.

“A good game tonight.” He said, and Yusuke nodded. “I had fun gambling with you.” He offered Yusuke his hand to shake, and Yusuke shook it. “I hope you will enjoy Joker's company later. He is as excellent with his mouth as with anything else.”

Yusuke's eyes widened, and Crow chuckled.

“Treasure our Crown Jewel,” he said, and leaned closer to Yusuke's ear. “It will be the last time you do.” He whispered, and pulled away to smile at Yusuke cheerfully again. “Until we meet again, Fox.”

He strode away after that, leaving Yusuke alone with the cheering crowds, and the delighted Madarame, to stew in his thoughts.

“What do you mean?” He murmured, but he quickly was swept away by the flurry of activity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 8 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> His head was spinning. 
> 
> “Ah, but you're here for something else, right?” Joker chuckled, pulling away before taking his cravat, tugging Yusuke along playfully. “Follow me.”
> 
> Yusuke, dazed, followed after him without another word, and let Joker lead him towards the bed, wide and neatly presented, save for a few wrinkles in the middle. Joker must have been waiting for him there. 
> 
> “So,” Joker smirked, stopping Yusuke with his hands on his shoulders, and he stroked his hair tenderly. “How do you wanna do this? Against the wall? Want me to suck you off? You don't have to worry about prep, I've done all that for you.” He pulled Yusuke forward towards the bed, and Yusuke began to panic as Joker lay back, pulling Yusuke forward to straddle him. “I thought of you while I opened myself up.” He purred, “And it felt _so good_. I don't usually get off on prep, but _you_ , Fox, you—”
> 
>  
> 
> ~~THAT'S ALL YOU'RE GETTING NAUGHTY CHILDREN HAHAHA SEE Y'ALL FRIDAY~~


	8. les amoureux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (you've probably played p5 enough to know what the chapter title means.)
> 
> “So, how will you have me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> high still very much highkey wanna kms but now with added features! i almost completely forgot to update this fic lmao goddamn i'm really out of it
> 
> also another bit of bad(?) news: i'm not gonna do that cosplay plan thingymabober, and i might not even go to the con anymore. rip lmao 
> 
> man, i don't have a lot to say except uh??? yusuke and akira are already fucking where i am right now in the story (chapter 20, ~48k). something to look forward to i guess
> 
> anyway! so enough about me making excuses about my shitty self, enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

Later, Yusuke was escorted by a pair of masked casino staff out of the gaming area to the higher floors, where he realised The Metaverse continued upwards to have hotel-quality rooms above them. He tried not to think about what happened behind the doors they walked by, and soon, he was brought to a gilded elevator door at the end of the corridor.

“Where are we going?” He asked nervously as they stepped inside, and his hand unconsciously curled around his phone in his pocket.

“Penthouse suite.” One of the staff, a blond young man in a skull mask replied. “It's the room offered to Joker's customers.”

Customers, he said.

“I-I see.” Yusuke nodded, and the doors slid shut in front of them. “So, the rooms are based on… employees?”

The blond snickered. “That's one way of putting it.”

“That's very considerate of you, Fox-san.” The other young man in a crescent moon-shaped half-mask said. “Skull, please don't be so informal.”

“No, it's alright.” Yusuke shook his head. “I do believe it's safe to say we are all of the same age?”

“Think so.” Skull agreed. “'Sides, of all the people Joker's taken in here, you're the least sleazy one yet.”

Yusuke blinked at the blond. “Um… thank you?”

“Don't mention it.” Skull beamed. His partner sighed exasperatedly.

“I really don't see what Panther sees in you.” He said, shaking his head, but he smiled at Yusuke. “Oh, I'm Lune. If you need anything, please call for me using the en suite phone.” He laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess you can consider me room service.”

“I'm just the brawn.” Skull offered, grinning as he punched his palm. “I'll beat any guy that comes up here and tries interrupting your hard earned sexy time.”

“I-I, uh,” Yusuke stammered, and Skull laughed, slinging his arm over his shoulders as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

“That's what you're here for, right? Me an' Lune saw your match with that Crow dude—both of you were in the effin' zone!” He said, and the three of them stepped out of the elevator. “Joker's in high demand like, all the time, but _damn_ , I've never seen two guys that dead set on getting laid.”

Yusuke was glad for the mask over his face, saving his mad blush from Skull's eyes. “With full honesty, I was competing against Crow for—”

He stopped himself. Why _was_ he fighting Crow that competitively?

Because he wanted to save Joker? But with the way things seemed, Joker didn't seem to need saving.

Because he wanted to dig deeper into Madarame's vices? He didn't have to face Crow for that.

Because of pure, selfish pride?

Yusuke's blood turned cold.

He wasn't as virtuous as he wished he was.

“Hey,” Skull said, patting his arm heavily before pulling away. “Your reasons are yours, I ain't gonna judge.”

“I won't either.” Lune added, and Yusuke smiled fondly at them.

Family. Oracle had mentioned that Joker was like her brother. Queen had been very sweet to Panther when she showed up at their table during his and Crow's game, and now Lune and Skull, getting along like brothers. It was oddly heartwarming to know they had a support system like this.

“Thank you.” He said, and they came to a stop at an ornate wooden door. Skull grinned at Yusuke, and held his hand out at him.

“A'ight, before you go in there, lemme just frisk you for weapons.” He said, “Not that Joker can't defend himself against people who attack him,” _that_ tidbit of information surprised Yusuke, “But it's better to be safe than sorry.”

“Of course.” Yusuke nodded, and allowed Skull to frisk him carefully. He had nothing but the camera corsage, his membership card and his phone on him, and Skull nodded when he confirmed the three items.

“Okay, you're good to go.” Skull nodded. “Have fun, dude.” He patted Yusuke's arm. “Oh, and don't worry about the noise, the room's soundproof.” He grinned wider when Yusuke spluttered in embarrassment. “And expect he'll be noisy. He's been looking forward to this.”

“H-he is?” Yusuke stammered, and Lune chuckled.

“You'll find out soon enough.” He said, and unlocked the door. Yusuke gave the two young men one last glance, and stepped inside.

The entrance alcove was elegant, marble-floored and right in front of him was a wall that led him to the left. It was decorated with a painting—and much to Yusuke's shock, it was the one that had been signed truthfully under his name. He gaped at it— _Incarceration_ —the original, the _only_ one he made.

(Not like the _Sayuri_ , hidden away from the world in multiple copies, behind the peacock painting in their home. Yusuke had discovered it by accident one day, and he never dared go back in there again.)

He had always wondered where the _Incarceration_ went. Madarame told him a generous buyer took it off his hands after the exhibit was over. It was a depiction of what he felt after he saw the _Sayuri_ —and the fakes—and the colours of his pain and shock blurred with the soft, once-comforting muted hues of Madarame's maiden painting. It depicted a white fox, head bowed and broken as the brown and the red, the white of the woman's skin and the black of her hair were streaked with angry, painful lines of aquamarine, grated across her peaceful visage like violent, unforgiving bars of a prison cell. The _Sayuri's_ silhouette was trapped behind the icy prison Yusuke's heart felt caged in after the realisation, and it stood starkly differently from the rest of the artworks in Madarame's exhibit.

And now, somehow, it was here. In Joker's penthouse suite.

Joker couldn't possibly have…

“Beautiful painting, isn't it?” Joker purred from beside him, and Yusuke jumped, turning to see the masked young man wearing a black sheer chiffon nightgown, with fluffy, black edges around the sleeves and the ends of the fabric. It was completely see-through, and Yusuke could see black lace panties, and a lace garter belt holding up sheer black stockings that hugged his long, toned legs. Joker was still in his black heels, and he was leaning seductively on the doorway leading further into the suite. Yusuke felt his cheeks grow hot, and he wondered why he never heard Joker approaching, even if the floor was marble and he was wearing high heels. “I was wondering why you were taking so long, Fox,” he said, striding over to him to drape himself around Yusuke slowly, sensually tangling his hands in Yusuke's hair as his painted lips curled up into a catlike smile. “But I don't blame you for staring. I fell in love with the artwork so quickly, I just _had_ to buy it.”

“W-wait, _you_ bought this?” Yusuke stammered, and Joker chuckled, humming as he nosed at Yusuke's throat.

“Yep,” he popped his lips, “Yusuke Kitagawa, that Ichiryusai Madarame's only student.” He said, though Yusuke didn't need to be told that. “He's amazing, you know? He's even better than his teacher.”

Joker traced carefree patterns on Yusuke's chest, and he shivered at his touch.

Joker loved his art.

His head was spinning.

“Ah, but you're here for something else, right?” Joker chuckled, pulling away before taking his cravat, tugging Yusuke along playfully. “Follow me.”

Yusuke, dazed, followed after him without another word, and let Joker lead him towards the bed, wide and neatly presented, save for a few wrinkles in the middle. Joker must have been waiting for him there.

“So,” Joker smirked, stopping Yusuke with his hands on his shoulders, and he stroked his hair tenderly. “How do you wanna do this? Against the wall? Want me to suck you off? You don't have to worry about prep, I've done all that for you.” He pulled Yusuke forward towards the bed, and Yusuke began to panic as Joker lay back, pulling Yusuke forward to straddle him. “I thought of you while I opened myself up.” He purred, “And it felt _so good._ I don't usually get off on prep, but _you_ , Fox, you—”

“Wait,” Yusuke stammered. He pulled away from Joker, and the seductive smirk from his lips melted into a concerned frown. “N-no. Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” Joker snapped, sitting up as Yusuke backed away from him. He toed off his shoes and frowned as Yusuke shook his head.

“Not—” Yusuke's gut was churning with nerves, and his blood was ice in his veins. “I don't want to have sex with you.”

Not with Joker—he wanted his first time to be with someone he loved.

Someone like Akira, but Akira probably didn't want him back.

“What?” Joker's beautiful face wrinkled with offended anger. “You _competed_ for this. You faced fucking _Crow_ , the _owner's_ substitute,” at that, Yusuke's expression fell, “Only to tell me you don't want me?”

“I—I—”

“Am I that undesirable for you?” Joker's eyes were fierce, but Yusuke could see tears beading at the corners. “Look, I have a _job_ , and I know people don't think of the best of people like me, but—” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “Look, do you want this or not?” He asked angrily. “Because if not, I'll—”

“Do _you_?” Yusuke asked quietly, and Joker hesitated.

“Wh-what kind of question is that?” He replied. “I'm a _prostitute._ I'm here for only one reason.”

Yusuke shook his head sadly. “Please understand. I have no intention of sleeping with you.” He said, sitting down on the bed next to Joker instead. “I simply didn't want you to suffer a night with someone you do not love.” He paused. “Though I suppose that would be offensive to you, as you seem perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

Joker gaped at him, and Yusuke took his hand to squeeze it gently.

“And for assuming such things about you, I apologise.”

The prostitute looked at him witheringly, and sighed. "What are you, a kid?" He mumbled, looking away from him, and Yusuke laughed sadly.

“No.” He replied. “Though I wish I was, sometimes.” He shrugged, when Joker cocked his head at him. “Do you have a pencil and some paper?”

That earned him a bewildered stare, and Yusuke could only offer him a weak smile. “Instead of the activities you are used to, would you consent to me drawing you instead?”

“I can't. I'm no good for modelling.” Joker said quietly, voice barely a whisper, and Yusuke deflated.

 _“I can't.”_ Akira had said, _“I'm no good.”_

Yusuke shook his head. “Joker, you're beautiful.” He said truthfully, and he lifted Joker's hand to kiss it. “You're the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse for a reason.”

“Yeah,” Joker laughed dryly. “Because I suck cock well.”

“N-no,” Yusuke's cheeks turned pink under his mask. “You captivated me the moment I saw you.” He admitted. “I had made it my life's mission to capture beauty in canvas, in art, and when I saw you, I could not stop drawing you.”

Joker gaped at him. “You've… seen me before?”

“In a photograph.” He said, “I came to The Metaverse to find the truth about my mentor Azazel, but I hadn't expected you.” Yusuke pressed a hand to his heart. “As much as it pains me, somehow, even without seeing your face, you have managed to pervade my thoughts, usurping my muse's place in my mind.”

“That sounds… like a confession.” Joker said.

“I apologise, Joker, but I do love someone else.” Yusuke laughed bitterly. “But it is you my hands demand to draw. I do not want to lie with you, not the way you want me to.”

In Joker's eyes, it felt like something broke, and became whole again.

“I should be relieved.” Joker said. “But I'm not.”

“I should be repulsed,” Yusuke agreed, “But I am not.”

“Won't you at least kiss me? By yourself?”

Yusuke shook his head. “I merely wish to draw you.”

“I…” Joker's lips melted into a smile of fond exasperation. “Fox, if you were the luckiest man of the night, I think I am the unluckiest one.” He said. Yusuke cocked his head at him at that, and he laughed sadly, leaning forward to kiss him gently on the corner of his lips. “Hold on, I think I have some sketchbooks lying around here.” He said, getting up from the bed and heading to an ornate vanity next to the equally-gaudy dresser. Yusuke felt an uncomfortable sensation sit in his gut at Joker's sad acceptance, and he watched as he looked through the desk's drawers, before pulling out a child's pencil and a middle-schooler's sketchbook.

Yusuke blinked. “Do you have children?” He blurted out when he saw the tools, and Joker laughed softly.

“Something like that.” He replied, heading back to Yusuke and sitting down beside him to hand him the pencil and paper. “Sorry about the drawings in the front. You can start from the back, and the paper's easy to tear out if you want to keep it.”

“O-oh,” he stammered. “May I still look through it, though?”

“Sure.” Joker nodded, “Mind if I just,” he made a vague gesture at the vanity, and Yusuke nodded. The prostitute gave him a small smile and patted his knee before getting up to head there. He watched Joker sit down with a heavy sigh at the vanity, and began wiping off his lipstick. “Oh, and Fox?”

“Yes?”

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't look first.” He said. “I'll be taking my mask off for a sec, so.”

“O-of course.” Yusuke nodded hurriedly, and turned away from Joker. He hear him chuckle softly, and he swallowed nervously.

“Thanks.” Joker replied. “I'll only be a minute.”

Curiosity gnawed at him to turn and look at Joker's face beneath the mask. He had a beautiful body, beguiling lips and lovely, perfect hair—his eyes were luminous and catlike, but Yusuke had a hard time putting together his face.

His traitorous mind filled in the blanks, and Yusuke found himself imagining Akira's face beneath Joker's mask.

Mortified, Yusuke shook his head and focused on the sketchbook in his hands. He opened it to find childish scrawls, drawings of the casino staff, all still in their masks, made by a young child. He saw a drawing of Joker in the outfit he wore earlier that evening when he danced with Panther, and Joker's code name underneath it in clumsy handwriting.

There was also Panther, in a more modest dress with a tiara on her head, and she was holding hands with Skull, who was dressed like a knight.

 _“I really don't see what Panther sees in you.”_ Lune had said. So, they _were_ an item.

Lune was there too, alongside Queen, and Queen had a crown over her head too. There was another figure in the picture, an imposing man in a grey-green jacket, and he didn't wear a mask. _Iwai-san,_ the label read, and Yusuke blinked at it.

It reminded him of Mune. Maybe he went by a different name in the casino, or Iwai was his real name.

There was a woman in a white coat holding a syringe with a cartoonishly big needle that dripped a broken red line, and underneath her was the name _Takemi-san._ A doctor, perhaps, but Yusuke had never heard of or seen a doctor-like person in The Metaverse.

There was Oracle, too, with some childish, unsavoury words around her, and Yusuke couldn't help but chuckle. “ _Poopy-pants_.” He read fondly, and moved on to see a man in a white trilby and a matching white suit next to her, with the name _Sojiro-san_ underneath him. He was holding a can of tuna, and there was a grin on his face. Yusuke didn't know what kind of person this Sojiro was—Takemi was at least very visibly a doctor, and he knew Mune had to be some part of casino security. Sojiro's appearance betrayed nothing more about him.

The pages the drawings on were unsigned, except for the last one, where there was another drawing of Joker, this time holding hands with a young child, presumably the artist of the drawings. The child was holding a cat, and each figure had labels: _Joker, Me,_ and _Mona_. The cat was named Mona, and Yusuke looked further down to see the name _Morgana_ written over and over again at the bottom of the paper, as if in practice. It was perhaps safe to assume the child was named Morgana, and was somehow close to Joker, one way or another.

“Who is Morgana?” Yusuke asked.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you he isn't mine?” Yusuke jumped when he heard Joker's sultry reply right in his ear. He jerked away from Joker to see him laughing softly behind his hand, now more relaxed than he had ever seen Joker that whole evening, and Yusuke found himself smiling back at him.

“Jumpy.” He stuck his tongue out at Yusuke, before smiling down at the drawings. “The long and short of it is that Morgana is a kid I'm taking care of.” He said, sitting down next to him, their thighs pressed against each other, though none of the sexually-charged tension sparked between them. It was intimate, but it was warm and friendly, and Yusuke realised this was probably the closest he would ever get to the man behind Joker's mask. “End of story. I'm not sharing more than that.”

“I respect that.” Yusuke nodded, and Joker's smile could overlap Akira's in the haze of his memory. He shook his head to clear it. “I, um, I apologise. Again. For making this more awkward than it needed to be.”

“No worries.” Joker shrugged, and Yusuke realised the makeup from his face was gone, lips now just the right shade of natural pink, cheeks under the shadow of his mask a more subdued peach. “So, how will you have me?”

He didn't mean the sex this time, and Yusuke was content on staying that way.

“Oh, please lie back in a natural, but dynamic pose.” The artist in his heart began speaking now, and Yusuke was more comfortable than he had ever been the whole evening. Left alone with Joker, far from Madarame's eyes, from Crow's powerful influence, from the pressure of the crowd behind him, Yusuke could let his walls down and be himself—mostly—again.

Joker chuckled at that, and shrugged off his nightgown, letting it flow into a puddle of black chiffon and fluff on the marble floor. Wide-eyed, Yusuke watched the shift of Joker's lean muscles under his skin, and he looked over the cigarette butt burns on his skin, the bruises that were just beginning to heal, the bites and scratches and hickies that peppered his body like mosquito bites.

He must have been openly gawking, when Joker cupped his cheek in his hand gently, almost reverently.

“You're right, you know.” He said. “I _am_ undesirable, once you've peeled away my mask.”

“I-I'm sorry—”

“No, it's fine.” Joker's smile was insincere, and Yusuke felt regret pooling in his gut. “My customers are rarely careful or considerate, not like you,” he said, laying back in the middle of the bed. “I wear waterproof concealer and powder-finish foundation to hide my bruises and burns while I'm outside. When I fuck people, the lights are usually dim enough for them not to notice.” Joker explained, and pressed his hands against the pillows beside his head. He crossed his leg over the other, and gave Yusuke a smile. “Like this, Fox?”

Yusuke hesitated for a moment, but he nodded, moving around to the side of the bed to sit down beside him to get a better view of Joker.

“Face this way,” he said softly, and Joker looked at him. “And Joker—”

“Yes?”

“You're not undesirable.” He said, and Joker blinked at him. “You're beautiful.”

“Burns and all?”

“Burns and all.”

Joker's smile was beautiful.

“Yes, just like that.” Yusuke said, “I'll capture that smile of yours in my artwork, and you'll understand.”

Joker's responding laugh was bashful, but it was lovely nonetheless.

His questions could wait. There was art to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 9 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> “No, it's already time?” Joker gasped, reaching forward to grasp Yusuke's sleeve gingerly like a child. “No… he… I…”
> 
> “Look, the guy's gotta go, since his teacher's gotta go.” Mune sighed, long-suffering, and jerked his head at Yusuke. “C'mon, Fox. Let's get you back to Azazel.”
> 
> “Mune-san, but we're not done yet!” Joker protested, grabbing hold of Yusuke's wrist and looking at him pleadingly. “Fox, I—”
> 
> “I'll come back,” Yusuke promised, though it sounded hollow in his ears. “Joker, I don't want to cause trouble.”
> 
> “Win me again, please.” Joker pleaded, clinging to him. “I want to keep talking to you.”
> 
> “Me too.” He said, but he got up, gently prying Joker's grip from his wrist. “We will meet again.”


	9. la famille cachée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the hidden family.)
> 
> “They didn't fuck,” the man said, and Yusuke ducked his head in embarrassment as Lune gaped at him. 
> 
> “Then what _did_ you do?” He asked. Iwai gave Yusuke a raised eyebrow as a prompt to answer, and he sighed. 
> 
> “I drew him.” Yusuke replied dejectedly, and Lune blinked at him. 
> 
> “Well, that's not an answer you hear every day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so i've literally stopped caring now lmao the moment i finish the whole thing on gdocs, it's coming out on ao3. then i'm retiring.
> 
> btw, i really love arsene. i stan arsene. i love, love, looove arsene. ~~i also love arsene/akira~~.
> 
> anyway, as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

Their silence was companionable, and Joker had managed to fall asleep, his seductive sprawl forgotten in favour of curling up into the satin sheets, hugging a pillow.

Safe.

Vulnerable.

“Joker, that position is much better, to be honest. Do you mind if you hold it there? Not that it would be uncomfortable, I'd imagine, but still.”

Yusuke hadn't noticed Joker had fallen asleep until silence met his question. He looked up from Morgana's sketchbook to see the prostitute had fallen asleep, and a fond smile crossed his face.

He deserved the rest. With a small chuckle, Yusuke continued sketching him, taking in every curl of his hair, the sweet vulnerability of his expression—

He paused, when he noticed the mask steadily slipping from his face. Yusuke held his breath, and he reached forward towards him, but as his gloved fingers almost brushed Joker's mask, he hesitated.

Joker trusted him. And Joker didn't want him to know who he was.

Carefully, Yusuke adjusted Joker's mask so it wouldn't fall off.

It seemed Joker was a light sleeper, though, and at the slight movement, he stirred and blearily blinked awake.

“Nnh…” he sat up slowly, reaching up to make sure his mask was secure before looking at Yusuke. “Fox? I fell asleep?” He mumbled.

“Hello.” He smiled gently at him. “You looked so peaceful, I'd hate to have interrupted.”

Joker smiled at him slowly, getting up to lean on his elbows. “You're so sweet, Fox.” He said, and leant forward to kiss him softly.

Yusuke's heart leapt. He still wasn't quite used to being kissed, but with his first thrown to the wind, he might as well get used to it. Maybe he could surprise Akira, if ever the time came that he wanted him the way Yusuke did, and he leaned slightly into their kiss.

Joker hummed, pleased as he pushed closer, his hand coming up to tangle in Yusuke's hair as they kissed lazily, open-mouthed and slow-moving, the heat building in an easy pace that it made it easy for Yusuke to shut his eyes and imagine he was kissing Akira instead.

Would Akira kiss like this? Gentle and sweet and chaste, or would he prefer to take the lead? Would he have Yusuke take the lead instead?

Uneasily he reached up to cup Joker's face in his hand as they parted.

“Fox,” Joker panted softly. “I-I really want you. P-please, just… please touch me. Let me touch you—you can imagine that person you love instead, I-I don't mind. I'm used to it.”

He climbed into Yusuke's lap, lips and hands quivering.

“ _Please,_ Fox _._ ” He begged. “Let me… let me please you.”

Yusuke winced. “Forgive me, Joker.”

Joker deflated. “Who _are_ they? Who has that hard a hold on your heart, damn it?” He asked brokenly.

“I…” Yusuke's hands balled into fists. “I've loved him for a long time.”

“What's his name? What's he like?”

“He's… beautiful.” Yusuke sighed, shutting his eyes. “He's sweet and considerate, soft-spoken. Kind.” He gently pushed Joker away to sit back on the middle of the bed, shaking his head. “His name is—”

The door suddenly opened, and Yusuke jumped, stifling his yell with a hand over his mouth. He whirled around to see—of all the people that could show up—Mune, who raised an eyebrow at the sight of the both of them on the bed.

“I was wondering why there wasn't any screaming.” He muttered, shaking his head. “So you're that Fox kid sending the casino into crazy town.”

“I…” Yusuke said intelligently, and Joker jumped.

“Mune-san!”

“Hey, kid.” Mune—Iwai? Yusuke wasn't entirely sure—gruffly said. “You look… relatively decent.”

“No, it's already time?” Joker gasped, reaching forward to grasp Yusuke's sleeve gingerly like a child. “No… he… I…”

“Look, the guy's gotta go, since his teacher's gotta go.” Mune sighed, long-suffering, and jerked his head at Yusuke. “C'mon, Fox. Let's get you back to Azazel.”

“Mune-san, but we're not done yet!” Joker protested, grabbing hold of Yusuke's wrist and looking at him pleadingly. “Fox, I—”

“I'll come back,” Yusuke promised, though it sounded hollow in his ears. “Joker, I don't want to cause trouble.”

“Win me again, please.” Joker pleaded, clinging to him. “I want to keep talking to you.”

“Me too.” He said, but he got up, gently prying Joker's grip from his wrist. “We will meet again.”

Joker deflated, sinking into his bed, and he said nothing more. Yusuke shot him one last pitying look, before following after Mune out of the room. Skull was nowhere to be found now, but Lune was still by the door, reading something on his phone with a smile. He looked up to see the two men come out of the room, and he stood up to give Yusuke a respectful bow.

“Thank you for availing The Metaverse Casino's services.” He said, and Mune grunted at him, waving a dismissive hand. “Iwai-san?”

“They didn't fuck,” the man said, and Yusuke ducked his head in embarrassment as Lune gaped at him.

“Then what _did_ you do?” He asked. Iwai gave Yusuke a raised eyebrow as a prompt to answer, and he sighed.

“I drew him.” Yusuke replied dejectedly, and Lune blinked at him.

“Well, that's not an answer you hear every day.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. “Man, Skull will wanna hear this.”

“Save it,” Iwai said. “I'm taking him back.”

“Oh, of course.” Lune nodded, “Please follow me, you two.”

Yusuke glanced back to the closed suite doors, and nodded, tailing after the two men back towards the elevator.

* * *

When the suite doors closed, Joker growled and tore off his mask with a huff. He threw it at the vanity, not caring if it reached the table or not, and rolled over in bed, burying his face into the pillows.

The walk-in closet door opened slightly, and a little boy peered out from behind it.

“Is he gone?” He asked carefully, and Joker let out a distressed noise into his pillows. The boy giggled slightly and ran out of the walk-in closet, his yellow neckerchief bouncing with his movement, his blue eyes wide with glee as he made a beeline for the bed. “Akira, Akira! I beat my best score today!”

Akira lifted his head from the pillows to see the boy climb into bed, hurrying up to his side with a wide grin on his face. The curls on his head were similar to Akira's, and to any observer who didn't know them, he could easily pass off as his son.

“That's great, Morgana.” Akira said, ruffling the boy's hair. “But shouldn't you be asleep? Where's Mona?”

“Asleep.” Morgana frowned. “So I came to look for you! I saw Iwai-san coming in from the TV's you had set up in my room so I knew it's okay to come see you!” He huffed, and he looked rather proud of himself for coming up with that conclusion. “Aren't I clever?”

Oh, Akira could never get annoyed with him.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Hey, you kept this?” Morgana asked, picking up his old sketchbook off the bed, and Akira jumped, taking the sketchbook from him. Morgana snickered, leering at Akira. “You're so sentimental.”

“Wow, is that a new, hard word?” Akira shot back, hugging Morgana, ruffling his hair with a laugh, and Morgana squealed happily, wriggling in Akira's hold until he broke free.

“Ew, Akira.” He stuck his tongue out at him, but he was grinning, yelling in protest when Akira tugged on it with his index finger and thumb. “Ew, you’re gross!” he laughed, “You do that to Mona, too!”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Akira grinned. “Aren’t you a little cat too?”

“Not you too! Futaba’s already calling me a cat, don’t you get started too!” Morgana protested, headbutting Akira, but that only earned him soft laughter. “Hey, your shift’s over, right? You didn’t really play with that Fox guy.”

“Yusuke.” Akira corrected him softly, poking his little nose. “His name’s Yusuke.”

Morgana lit up. “Oh, the guy you have a crush on!” He grinned, “Wow, you got to kiss him and stuff!” He paused, “Wait, no, that’s gross. You’ve got cooties on you…”

Akira laughed, and bumped their foreheads together affectionately. “It’s my _job,_ Morgana. It’s what’s putting those curry rice meals and tuna in here.” He poked Morgana’s stomach, earning him a tired laugh, and the little boy sighed, leaning into Akira’s embrace. “Sleepy?”

“‘M tired after playing on my phone.” He replied, cuddling Akira. “We going home now? Iwai-san already dropped by and you don’t have anyone to go home with.”

“Yeah,” Akira said, feeling relief for the first time in ages, and he looked at the door again, his expression softening at the thought of Yusuke finally leaving The Metaverse Casino for the night. “Let’s go home.”

He bundled up the small boy in his arms, and tucked him into the bed properly for the time being, before getting up and heading to the dresser to pick up his normal clothes to head out for the night.

He paused when he passed the CCTV cameras inside his walk-in closet, and there was still evidence of Morgana’s presence, some empty bags of chips scattered on the floor, a small foldable mattress with some pillows on it. Beside the mattress was a small wicker basket full of pillows, and a small ball of black and white fur curled up in the middle of it. A small smile crossed Akira’s face.

“Mona.” He said softly, picking up the sleeping kitten in the basket. He also picked up Morgana’s trash, stuffing them into a duffel bag hidden expertly in the corner of the closet, before heading outside to set Mona’s basket carefully down next to the still peacefully-sleeping Morgana on his bed.

He headed back inside the closet to get changed into normal clothes, before taking the pillows to put back in their rightful place on the bed. He folded the mattress and hid it in one of the cabinets inside the closet, locking it with a number combination password, and after a careful once-over of the closet to make sure traces of Morgana’s presence was gone, he headed back out into his room and made a beeline for the phone.

He dialled a private number long memorised, and a familiar voice answered.

“ _Good evening._ ”

“Hi, Arsene. It's me.”

“ _I'm aware of the magic that is called caller ID, my dear._ ” Akira could hear the smile in the man’s voice. “ _Why the call this late at night?_ ”

“Isn't it like,” Akira stole a glance at the clock. “Not ass-o'clock where you are right now?”

“ _Language. I doubt this is the first thing Sojiro wanted of you when he let you take care of your little brother._ ”

“Morgana’s asleep right now.” Akira replied. “Okay, listen. I need a favour from you.”

“ _Anything._ ”

“I need you to get dirt on this artist named Ichiryusai Madarame.” He said, sitting down on the bed gently to not wake Morgana up. “Where his artworks are showed, who bought them, the works.”

“ _I'm a thief, Akira. I am starting to doubt you completely understand my occupation._ ” A pause. “ _Or how I managed to get you that pink diamond a while back._ ”

“Well, to be frank, I sold it off immediately.” He chuckled. “Morgana’s tuition isn't cheap, you know.”

Arsene chuckled. “ _C’est la vie. Your affections are hard to gain, the beautiful Crown Jewel of The Metaverse._ ”

“Ew, not during private calls.” Akira pulled a face. “Anyway, I'm asking you exactly _because_ you're a thief. You have fencers, don't you? Contacts in the black market?”

“ _Ah, of course._ ” Arsene replied. “ _Akira, information from gentlemen thieves isn't cheap._ ” There was a smile in his voice, and Akira scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, _Monsieur Arsene Lupin,_ ” he drawled. “My ass is ready and available to take your monster cock whenever you decide to come to Japan.”

Arsene laughed, a full, warm laugh, rough with the distance across oceans.

“ _Ever the charmer, Akira. This is why I cannot get enough of you._ ” He said warmly. “ _I will ask my friends and return to you when I can. Now, exactly why are you asking me about Ichiryusai Madarame?_ ”

“I met his student.” Akira said.

“ _And?_ ”

Akira's hand gripped the phone tightly.

“I want to save him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 10 preview!**
> 
> He smirked, and cocked a finger at him. “Come, and show your master how sorry you are for your disobedience, and I _may_ be merciful.”
> 
> Akira glared at him, and refused to move. 
> 
> The man’s smirk widened. 
> 
> “Or, perhaps your little brother can join in helping you pay off your family’s debt?”
> 
> “Leave him out of this.” Akira snapped, and with a jerk of the man’s head, he choked when Akechi buried a tight fist in his hair and yanked his head back. He tripped over his high heels, falling back against the young man’s chest, squirming in discomfort. 
> 
> “You're only making it worse for yourself, beautiful little Crown Jewel.” The man chuckled darkly. “It's always fun to subjugate you, but it gets tiring when I'm not in the mood for it.”
> 
> “Call him properly.” Akechi told Akira gently, and the prostitute growled. “ _Akira_.”


	10. la témérité du renard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the fox's temerity)
> 
> Seiji’s grin was wide in the rear view mirror. “If Ichiko-chan told you about Crow, would you have listened to her anyway?”
> 
> Yusuke thought back to Joker, and the way he was dragged out and treated like a plaything, and he frowned. 
> 
> “No.” He admitted, and the man laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry about the recent mess; i'm feeling a little better now (thank god for friends) but i'm still gonna post the whole damn thing when i'm done with it. thankfully, someone convinced me to keep fighting instead of like, stopping in the middle of the pedestrian crossing.
> 
> on another note, i started playing p2: innocent sin to encounter the lovely, beautiful jun kurosu. it's kinda draggy but so far it's been really fun. tatsuya's a great guy. ~~jun best boy tho. shame he's so far along in the story....~~
> 
> anyway, as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

Iwai’s hand on his shoulder was heavy, tight-gripping and steady, and Yusuke could only follow where the man took him. They didn't leave out the main entrance, and he pulled Yusuke aside into the emergency stairs, and eventually they ended up in the staff hallways. Yusuke shot him a nervous look, but the man pushed onward, until they made it to the back doors out of the casino.

“Alright, your teacher’s car is coming around the corner. He's drunk again, but he's got you this time so I'm assuming you give a damn enough to bring the old man home yourself.” Iwai said, and Yusuke nodded. “Good. I'm leaving.”

“W-wait, excuse me,” Yusuke said, and Iwai raised an eyebrow at him. “Why did you bring me out here?”

“Crow was gonna have your dumb ass killed.” Iwai replied, deadpan, and Yusuke’s eyes widened. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Look, I know it's your first time here and all, but didn't your teacher tell you not to mess with the owner’s boy?”

“I—” Yusuke stopped himself, and shook his head. “No.”

“That shit old man,” Iwai grumbled. “Okay, how about the person who sent you?”

Yusuke froze. “The… person who sent me?”

“Ichiko Ohya?” The older man crossed his arms. “Private investigator. Sidelines as a journalist.”

“She… she didn't tell me she was an investigator.” Yusuke said weakly. Iwai sighed.

“Of course she didn't.” He said. “ _I'm_ her contact that got you the membership card. I was the guy who left that gambling chip on the table so you'd get the damn message your teacher’s a gambling addict.” He offered his hand for Yusuke to shake. “Munehisa Iwai. I'm part of casino security.”

“Why do you not wear a mask?”

“Never have.” Iwai scoffed. “Ever since before the change in management, I was already here. I'm not about to go changing just because everyone else has.”

Yusuke found himself smiling at that. Iwai rolled his eyes.

“Okay, moving on.” He said. “That was some stupid shit you pulled, facing off against Crow. _And winning._ Joker had to pull me aside to save your ass.” He scratched the back of his neck, and a car came around the corner, just as he said. “This better be the last time you come around these parts. Ohya got all the shit she needed.”

“Wait, I'm coming back.” Yusuke grasped the hem of Iwai’s sleeve, and the man looked at him dryly. “I need to see if Joker is alright.”

“He will be.” Iwai huffed. “He always has been, didn't really need too much help.” He glowered at Yusuke. “And he's not about to start needing more now.”

Yusuke bit his lip. “Until next time, Iwai-san.”

Iwai rolled his eyes. “Stupid kid.” He deadpanned, but there was a grin on his face. “Don't come back.”

He gave Yusuke a small wave as he got into the car, and Yusuke cast him one last look before he shut the door. Iwai watched the car drive off, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“Idiot,” he said. “Then again, I have a soft spot for idiots like that kid, huh…”

* * *

The door opened just as Akira put the phone down. He looked over his shoulder to see Queen, who had a determined frown on her face. She stepped inside the suite and made sure to lock the door behind her.

“Oh, Queen.” He nodded, “Unusual for Mune-san to leave the door unlocked.”

“He gave me his key for the time being,” she replied. “Give me Morgana. I'll take him home to Leblanc,” she held her arms out at him. “The owner wants to see you.”

Akira withered. “Is it about Yus—”

“ _Fox_ is safe, don't worry.” She said with a sigh, pushing up her mask to show him her face. “Akira, that was reckless.” She hissed, softer this time, and Akira deflated. “Two guards handcuffed to pipes in the staff corridors? A broken machine? Sis has to cover up for this big time.”

“Sorry, Makoto.” Akira sighed. “What does he want, where is he?” He put a hand to his waist. “I thought he wouldn't come tonight.”

“Why do you think Crow wanted to win you?” Makoto sighed exasperatedly. “Samael was just running late. I guess he wanted some fun before Samael showed up, but then Fox won…”

“I don't want to spend another night with him.” Akira frowned. “Just this night, I wanted to—” he cut himself off and shook his head. “I like Yusuke, Makoto. When he showed up tonight, I just—” he deflated. “I thought I had a chance if he won me tonight. Just one night would have made do.”

“Would have made do?” Makoto echoed, and Akira laughed self-deprecatingly.

“Yusuke didn't want to sleep with me.” He said, and Makoto’s eyes widened. “He said—he said he loved someone else.”

“Akira…” she sighed. “I'm… sorry.”

“No, I should've expected it.” Akira shook his head. “We just know each other because he buys his mother's flowers from me. That's it.” He rubbed his arm. “No way I stood a chance.”

Makoto shifted her weight between her feet. “Maybe he just didn't know it was you?”

“Yusuke? Not notice?” Akira laughed dryly. “The guy goes people-watching for fun. He's an artist. He's supposed to be observant.”

Makoto bit her lip. “You never know?”

He leaned against her, sighing. “You're really trying to cheer me up, and I'm thankful for that, Makoto.” He kissed her temple. “Okay, does he need me _dressed_ or can I go in my jeans and t-shirt?”

Makoto sighed. “ _Dressed_ is safer.”

Akira winced, but he nodded. “I'll see you in the morning.” He paused. “Hopefully.”

“You will.” She nodded. “Morgana won't lose another family member, never again.”

Akira smiled at her, cupping her cheek in his hand. “You're a real friend, Makoto. I'll see you later.”

She nodded, and he headed back into his walk-in dresser in time to see her carefully pick the sleeping Morgana up in her arms, Mona’s wicker basket hanging carefully from her elbow.

He watched them leave from the closet, and he sighed.

“I'll find that will, I swear.” He muttered angrily. “Then _all_ of us can be free.”

* * *

Yusuke was restless, and beside him Madarame’s head lolled around in his sleep. Sighing exasperatedly, Yusuke checked the time on the car’s dashboard—it was a little past 1 in the morning, and he winced. He had classes at 7AM that day.

Maybe he could do with just one absence today.

“Ah, Yush—Yusuke?” Madarame’s speech was slurred, but the old man lifted his head from Yusuke’s shoulder to squint at him. “Is the ground shaking?”

“We’re in a car, sensei.” He said calmly. “We’re heading home.”

“Oh.” The old man nodded slowly, before collapsing on him, completely unconscious this time around. Yusuke groaned in annoyance, and pushed his teacher off to let him rest on the other side of the car. In front of him, the driver laughed, and Yusuke jumped when he saw who it was in the rear view mirror.

“Seiji-san!” He gasped, and Seiji gave him a mock salute. “How did you—”

“Iwai-san,” he explained. “Ichiko-chan got him to let me drive you home to make sure you're okay. Thanks for your hard work, have you proven to yourself what kinda guy your teacher is?”

Yusuke froze. That was right—the whole reason why he accepted Ohya’s deal was because he wanted to find out the truth about Madarame.

But that was in the past. He had another goal now—to see Joker again.

“Yes.” He replied truthfully. “But I—”

“Awesome.” Seiji cut him off. “Okay, we're gonna need the corsage of yours for the video evidence.”

“Oh, right.” Yusuke unpinned the camera and handed it to Seiji, who nodded.

“Thanks. Well, this is the end of our bargain, you're free to never come back to The Metaverse.” He said, but Yusuke shook his head.

“I need to go back.” He said, and Seiji peered at him through the rear view mirror, eyebrow raised.

“Why?”

“I…” Yusuke paused. “I found another reason to go back.”

Seiji smiled slowly. “Is it that Joker person?”

Yusuke jolted, and the man laughed, though not unkindly.

“Hey, I don't blame you. I'm straight as an arrow, but that Joker guy?” He wolf-whistled. “ _Hot._ But listen, Yusuke-kun? You're too good a kid to be fallin’ in love with prostitutes. Maybe a one-night-stand with the guy wouldn't hurt, but don't go falling in love, it's bad news for you, for everyone involved.”

“I'm not in love with him,” Yusuke declared firmly, “I have someone else I like.”

Seiji hummed. “ _Okay_.” He drawled. “But involving yourself with Joker is a bad idea. Best you just leave it to the professionals.” He winked at him. “Y’know, like me and Ichiko-chan.”

Yusuke pursed his lips, frustrated, and he shook his head to calm himself down.

“Seiji-san, why did Ohya-san lie to me?”

“Part of the job, really. Sorry ‘bout that.” Seiji said, though he didn’t sound like he was sorry. Yusuke bristled from where he sat, but said nothing else. “Ichiko-chan was just tryna make sure you wouldn’t end up in too much trouble, but I guess you could manage that yourself.” Seiji laughed. “I mean, heard from Iwai-san you pissed off the owner. Talk about badass!”

“Well, it was his substitute, I was told.” Yusuke frowned, thinking about Crow and his not-smile, and he shook his head. “What _wasn’t_ told to me was how I wasn’t supposed to mess with Crow.”

Seiji’s grin was wide in the rear view mirror. “If Ichiko-chan told you about Crow, would you have listened to her anyway?”

Yusuke thought back to Joker, and the way he was dragged out and treated like a plaything, and he frowned.

“No.” He admitted, and the man laughed.

“See?” He said, and pulled over. He turned in his seat to grin at Yusuke. “Well, we’re home, you need help carrying out your teacher?”

Yusuke nodded. “Yes, please.” He said, and Seiji nodded, getting out of the front seat to head around to the back seats.

“Alrighty. Heave-ho!”

* * *

“You know what it means to cause me any inconveniences.”

Akira bit the inside of his cheek, hard. “Yes, sir.” He managed through grit teeth, and he felt a hand slide up the side of his body. He dared not turn, feeling instead lips along the side of his neck, and another hand gripping his wrists together.

“Good.”

There was the click of handcuffs, and Akira tensed up when the hands left him, leaving him standing there in front of the man, out of his nightgown and in the lingerie he had worn to try and seduce Yusuke into sleeping with him.

“Akechi, take his mask off.”

Behind him, where Akira still couldn't see him, Akechi obeyed, removing Akira’s mask with a small kiss to his temple.

“Sorry, Akira.” He murmured to him, though there was no trace of apology in his voice. “If you had only let me win against that Fox, it wouldn't have to be this way.”

He didn't respond to that.

It was worth it anyway, to spend a night with Yusuke. _Any_ time spent with Yusuke was worth a night in hell.

“Ah, but you're beautiful, it's true.” The man in front of Akira nodded, “And you're still a valuable toy to me and my ambitions.”

He smirked, and cocked a finger at him. “Come, and show your master how sorry you are for your disobedience, and I _may_ be merciful.”

Akira glared at him, and refused to move.

The man’s smirk widened.

“Or, perhaps your little brother can join in helping you pay off your family’s debt?”

“Leave him out of this.” Akira snapped, and with a jerk of the man’s head, he choked when Akechi buried a tight fist in his hair and yanked his head back. He tripped over his high heels, falling back against the young man’s chest, squirming in discomfort.

“You're only making it worse for yourself, beautiful little Crown Jewel.” The man chuckled darkly. “It's always fun to subjugate you, but it gets tiring when I'm not in the mood for it.”

“Call him properly.” Akechi told Akira gently, and the prostitute growled. “ _Akira._ ”

“He's not this disobedient, usually.” The man remarked. “Hm, I wonder why.”

Akira squirmed in Akechi’s grip.

“He means it, you know.” He said. “Morgana is next if you don't do this. Don't you want to save him?”

“Fuck you,” Akira hissed at him, and he only laughed, insincere. “Shido.” He said, louder, and Akechi pulled on his hair harder, earning him a choked gasp.

“What was that, again?” Shido smirked, and Akira huffed.

“Please, Akira.” Akechi said. “You know as well as I do that Morgana doesn't deserve this life.”

Damn it.

“ _Our_ life.”

Akechi was right.

“Master… Shido.” He said slowly, and Akechi finally nodded. He let go of Akira’s hair, pushing him down onto his knees, and the prostitute looked up at the bald man in front of him. “Please punish me however you like.”

The man’s smirk widened.

“Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 11 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh, but enough of this—Yusuke, tell me. How did you figure me out?”
> 
> Yusuke deflated. So much for that line of inquiry.
> 
> “Well, I had happened to see the gambling chip on the table, as I showed you.” Yusuke said. Luckily, Ohya had briefed him on this, and he knew just what to say. “And I did my own research.”
> 
> “Oh?” Madarame grinned, rubbing his chin. “That’s impressive.”
> 
> “It was difficult, I admit.” Yusuke continued, “Especially acquiring a membership card. The suit was something I borrowed from a friend, and the mask was something I made, but the membership card proved difficult.”
> 
> “How did you do it, then?”


	11. le matin après

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the morning after)
> 
> The Metaverse was in itself a double-edged sword. It was a den of sin and impurity, an embodiment of society and power’s distortion and twisted desires, and yet—
> 
> And yet, there were people like Joker in there. Oracle. Queen, Panther, Skull, Lune, Iwai. 
> 
> It brought back the father in Madarame that Yusuke had sorely missed. 
> 
> The Metaverse was equal parts wonderful and horrible, and Yusuke couldn't tell which outweighed the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **BIG NEWS: THIS FIC HAS REACHED 50k ON THE GDOCS!!!**
> 
> this chapter's a little shorter than usual. sorry, i didn't want it to be Infodump: The Chapter and honestly there's some backstory in there already. sorry in advance to p3 fans i love the idea that akihiko and hamuko are makoto and sae's parents. had to change the surnames to make it work, though. so,,,, , yEAH PLEASE LET ME HAVE THIS IT'S AN AU ANYWAY,
> 
> ~~worse, i like the idea that tatsuya and jun are akira's parents, adn do you know what happens to them in this au...~~
> 
> so okay i've been playing innocent sin and oh my god it's equally lovely and fun but also DRAGGY AS HELL WHY CAN'T I , , ,, , SKIP THINGS, ,, , , ,PLEAS,SE,, ,, ,,I WANT,, T,O MEE,T,,, , ,JUN, ,, i'm at the GOLD dungeon rn though and that's a step away from the aerospace museum so it's not all bad,, , ,,, ,, i guess,,, , , it's definitely Something Different from p5 ngl but it's fun in its own way. slowly starting to stan the suoh brothers, honestly........
> 
>  
> 
> ~~mild spoilers for chapters beyond 21 I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M GOING TO ADD P2 INTO THIS FIC BUT ALSO INCREDIBLE INEXPLICABLE PAIN I ACTUALLY TEARED UP WHILE I PLANNED IT HOW COULD I HAVE DONE THIS TO BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL JUN, ,, , , OH GOD I'M SO SORRY OFRIGVE MY SINFUL SOUL, yeah hi so after Super Nice Fucking™ now established happening in chapter 20, there will be **intense downhill rolling** from then on. be warned. it's coming.~~
> 
> yikes, this note was a little long LMAOOOO SORRY as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

Yusuke woke up at 9:30 the next morning, blinking blearily as he found himself staring at angry, red numbers on the clock on the bedside table, and staring for much longer when he saw what day of the week it was.

Thursday. He didn't have classes on Thursdays.

He found himself laughing into his pillow, shaking his head as he rolled over to look at the ceiling.

The night before felt like a fever dream, but he _knew_ it was real. The three-piece suit still lay in a heap on the floor, and the membership card for The Metaverse, along with his phone and Ohya's calling card, were right next to the clock on his bedside table.

There was also a folded piece of paper—his sketches of Joker, sprawled out in a sexy position, as if anticipating a lover to mount him, lift his legs and fuck him with reckless abandon.

 _This_ was the Joker he thought he knew.

The other sketch, the one of him peaceful and unguarded, asleep and curled up comfortably and _safe_ , was the Joker he met, and he had left it in the sketchbook in Joker’s room.

He found himself smiling at that.

Joker.

Joker was an interesting man. He wasn't even close to the pure, sweet Akira Yusuke had fallen in love with, but he could see the beauty that grew within adversity.

In a romance novel, this was probably where Yusuke would let Akira go and chase after Joker for a whirlwind romance and rescue him from the casino, but his conversation with Joker had told him a much deeper story.

Joker didn't need saving—he was a strong young man, who had made family out of coworkers and friends. He was selfless, working his _job_ for someone who relied on him.

Hell, Joker took his rejection better than Yusuke took his own.

If there was anyone that needed saving, it was—

“Yusuke?”

He jolted, and he sat up to see his teacher peering into the room, a glass of water in his hands, and not at all looking worse for wear.

“S-sensei.” He stammered, hurrying to get out of bed, but much to his shock, Madarame began to laugh brightly, shaking his head as he stepped inside Yusuke’s room to sit next to him on the bed. “Sensei?” He tried again, but Madarame suddenly ruffled his hair, and Yusuke’s heart nearly stopped.

It’d been _years_ since he last did that.

“So, a natural gambler, and The Metaverse.” He nodded. “I’ve thought many things of you, Yusuke, but the you last night, well.” He chuckled fondly. “You truly are full of surprises. It seems your natural luck at gambling is another delightful quirk you seem to have.”

“I…” Yusuke blinked at his teacher, and finally settled on an answer. “Thank you?”

“No, my boy! It is you I have to thank!” Madarame nodded, patting his shoulder firmly. “You’ve made me good money last night, well done! I can see why Samael would want a substitute like Crow around.”

Samael. Yusuke frowned. “Sensei, just who is this Samael?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Madarame cocked his head at him. “He is the owner of The Metaverse.” He said, tucking his hands in his sleeves as he pressed them together. “The very man who made it the delicious little den it is today.”

His phrasing sounded odd, Yusuke thought, but then he remembered Iwai’s words the night before.

_“Ever since before the change in management, I was already here.”_

The change in management.

“So he didn’t make the casino himself?” He asked, cocking his head. The mystery deepened—if this Samael hadn’t made the casino himself, then how did he get it?

“Oh, he did. However, the building had another story.” Madarame shook his head. “Nijima. The previous owner had been a man named Nijima—Akihiko Nijima, I do believe. I heard from friends that it hadn’t always been a casino, but I’m not aware of what it used to be.”

Yusuke’s brow furrowed. Akihiko Nijima. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“However, Samael acquired the building and changed everything—layouting, the management—directly overseeing it himself.” The old man shook his head. “Oh, but enough of this—Yusuke, tell me. How did you figure me out?”

Yusuke deflated. So much for that line of inquiry.

Nijima. The name sounded familiar, definitely. It felt like Yusuke had heard it before, on the headlines of newspapers, off the tongues of journalism students far too ambitious, and far too easily seen as dead bodies washed up in the sewers with Shibuya’s rotten, dead river clogging their lungs peppered with bullet holes.

Nijima felt like a cursed name, for some reason. Yusuke couldn’t put a finger on it.

Leviathan’s curling smirk of black crossed his mind, and he shook his head to clear it. Now wasn’t the time to think on this.

“Well, I had happened to see the gambling chip on the table, as I showed you.” Yusuke said. Luckily, Ohya had briefed him on this, and he knew just what to say. “And I did my own research.”

“Oh?” Madarame grinned, rubbing his chin. “That is impressive.”

“It was difficult, I admit.” Yusuke continued, “Especially acquiring a membership card. The suit was something I borrowed from a friend, and the mask was something I made, but the membership card proved difficult.”

“How did you do it, then?”

Yusuke tried his best to smile icily at his foster father. “Have you heard of Munehisa Iwai?”

Madarame’s grin widened. “Do go on.”

“Through some sources, I heard he had a son,” Truth. “Completely unaware of his… _job_.” Untruth, Yusuke hoped. Ohya provided him with good information, and he hoped the young Iwai boy really _did_ know about his father’s activities. Not that Iwai himself was doing anything illegal, per se, but Ohya did mention something about the Yakuza, and the so-called Reptile Tiger who answered to Mune.

“Oh?” Madarame seemed to know the same thing.

“Well, it was easy to have a word with him after that.” He lied.

Madarame burst out laughing, nodding as he clapped his hand on Yusuke’s shoulder.

“Yusuke! You truly are amazing!” He crowed, “Definitely braver and gutsier than I had thought you were be—and cunning, as well! Fox _does_ suit you.” He nodded. “I think it _will_ be good for me to bring you along whenever I play.”

Yusuke lit up at that. “Sensei, will you return ton—”

“No, not tonight.” Madarame shook his head. “I never play two nights in a row, and—” he checked the calendar hanging on Yusuke’s wall. “If I remember correctly, you have a piece to finish for me by Saturday.”

Yusuke jumped. “O-oh, of course.”

He’d been so caught up with uncovering the truth and seeing Joker again, that he had forgotten about his projects. His unfinished canvasses were in storage next to the peacock-door room, waiting for him to complete by Saturday. He still had one more portrait to do to meet his quota, but Yusuke wasn’t worried.

He was filled to the brim with inspiration, thanks to Joker.

“Oh, speaking of masterpieces.” Madarame leered at Yusuke. “How was Joker?”

Yusuke blushed deeply, and his tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth. He knew he would have anticipated Madarame asking him about the prostitute, but he still wasn't prepared for it, in the end. The old man laughed, loud and fond, and he nodded.

“Cat got your tongue, has he?” Madarame nodded. “Yes, Joker _is_ good. His mouth is impressive.”

There was something _revolting_ about listening to your foster father discussing a prostitute—the same one Yusuke befriended the night before.

Well, if whatever it was they did in that private room could be called _befriending._

“S-sensei, how is your head?” Yusuke asked, desperate to change the topic. “With how drunk you were last night, I worry about your hangover.”

“My boy,” Madarame chuckled, “I have been in The Metaverse in secret for almost two years now, and not once have you found me with a hangover the next day, yes?”

That _was_ true, and odd, considering his teacher’s age and intoxication. Yusuke looked lost, but the man shook his head.

“Dr. Tae Takemi.” He said. “A woman who is nothing short of a medical genius. She serves as The Metaverse’s High Limit member-exclusive doctor.” He patted his side. “That's why this old man here is still as sprightly as ever!”

Takemi. Yusuke saw that name before—in Morgana’s sketchbook. So, a doctor for the casino was part of Joker’s small family.

“Does she make cures for burns and bruises?” Yusuke asked, and Madarame blinked at him.

“Planning something, boy?”

“No.” Yusuke lied, and Joker’s burned and bruised skin faded into the backdrop of his memory. “Just a simple thought. If she was such a genius, then perhaps she could heal even those?”

The old man gave him a long look, before sighing. “Well, I think she has salves for that. I remember a shootout…” he trailed off muttering, and Yusuke looked down at his hands.

Maybe there was a way to help Joker’s burns.

(But wait, if this Takemi was close to him, wouldn't she have already given him the salve?)

“Ah, but enough of that. Today you don't have classes, but that doesn't mean you get to slack off.” Madarame tutted. “To the studio for you. I have to make arrangements with a business partner today.”

“O-of course, Sensei.” Yusuke bowed his head.

“I let you sleep in today as a reward for winning big last night.” Madarame continued. “Breakfast is in the kitchen.”

Yusuke gaped at him as he walked out of the room.

He couldn't even remember the last time Madarame made breakfast for him.

He buried his face in his hands. The Metaverse was in itself a double-edged sword. It was a den of sin and impurity, an embodiment of society and power’s distortion and twisted desires, and yet—

And yet, there were people like Joker in there. Oracle. Queen, Panther, Skull, Lune, Iwai.

It brought back the father in Madarame that Yusuke had sorely missed.

The Metaverse was equal parts wonderful and horrible, and Yusuke couldn't tell which outweighed the other.

Sighing, he shook his head. There was no use mulling over it now. The Metaverse is what it is, whatever his mind decided it would be, and Yusuke was going to go back there, and he was going to help Joker, and get to the bottom of things.

His stomach rumbled, and he jumped. He looked down at himself, and chuckled softly.

But first, breakfast. Many great endeavours began with the first meal of the day, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 12 preview! NSFW ahead, a little treat for them akeshu fans that like their ship a little Extra Painful™**
> 
>  
> 
> With the flash of pain crossing his body, Akira was pulled—rather forcefully—back into reality, and the shape of Yusuke shattered into the shape of Akechi draped over his body, and Akira took a deep, shaky breath.
> 
> Akechi sighed happily, kissing Akira softly as he got up. 
> 
> “You’re so beautiful, Akira.” He murmured.
> 
> “ _You’re beautiful._ ” Yusuke had said, and it rang in his ears louder than any of Akechi’s hollow praise ever did.
> 
> “You’re gonna have to clean me up again,” Akira replied instead, and Akechi laughed, the tinkling of snow bells, and the dull ache in Akira’s heart felt like a knife to the chest. 
> 
> [In another life, he and Akechi wouldn’t be like this.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11111559)
> 
> In another life—maybe—he would have loved him the way Akechi loved him.


	12. l'amant fantôme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the phantom lover)
> 
> “My old man’s like a child, isn’t he.” He continued to say, holding himself still to wait for Akira to adjust, but the prostitute was weak-boned and even weaker-muscled, lying limp underneath him, not even half-hard. “Always playing with his toys and nearly breaking them, and I’m the one left behind to put them back together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **MOM HOLY FUCK PERSONA 5 DANCING STAR NIGHT AND PERSONA 3 DANCING MOON NIGHT AND PQ2 ATLUS TAKE MY MONEY MY DICK IS SO HARD FOR AKIRA RIGHT NOW HE LOOKS SO GOOD I'M SOBBING I SAW THIS COMING I SAW THIS FUCKING COMING I'M GONNGNGNGHGJH I'M ASCENDING I WANT TO SEE ARSENE SHRED A SAXOPHONE**
> 
> so with the announcement of hte new games, since i was so super fucking happy i decided to upload a new chapter, holy shit i'm still crying, here's some akeshu porn
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

“Good morning, Joker.”

Akira felt sore all over, brand new bruises and cigarette butt burns all over his body screaming in protest with his breaths, and he winced as he tried to sit up.

“Try not to move. Takemi-san told me to keep you still.”

Akira finally opened his eyes to look up at the canopy of a bed. He heaved an exhausted sigh.

“I'm _still_ in The Metaverse?” He grumbled, peering to the side to see Akechi smiling at him, his red Crow mask gone, leaving only his kind, youthful face.

Akira wanted to snort. Kind, his ass.

“Well, yes. Shido just couldn't resist beating you within an inch of your life.” Akechi sighed, taking his hand to kiss it delicately, and the bed dipped as he lay down next to Akira.

Akira laughed derisively. “He should've tried harder.”

Akechi clicked his tongue. “Don't be such a stick in the mud.” He said, before draping himself over Akira, apparently just as naked as the prostitute was. Akira winced at his bruises being pressed on, and Akechi’s smile only widened. “Cleaning you up wasn't as fun as when you're awake.”

“Yeah, remind me to stay awake while I'm dead.”

Akechi laughed sweetly. “Don't be like that.” Akira frowned up at him as Akechi leaned over him. “I was lonely last night, you know. School was being so unkind, and the chief inspector was grumpy because Shido had us do something tedious again.” He pressed a kiss to a bruise on Akira’s collarbone, and Akira muffled a groan as the ache dulled into a pleasurable sweetness.

“And then, when I needed you, you chose some _fox_ _mutt_ over me?” Akechi murmured against his bruise, and Akira couldn’t hold back the groan of pain that escaped him. He felt Akechi’s lips curl up into a smirk against his stinging skin, and Akira grimaced when the brunet pulled off him. “And then I had to watch as Shido and some pigs fucked you.”

Akira had lost count the amount of cocks he took last night after Shido had stuffed the pill into his mouth. He knew Takemi made it—and he knew she knew whom it was for. It tasted like home, of coffee, and the false echo of reassurance, but it was enough for Akira to calm down as it took over for him.

The drug, Takemi had told Shido, was for subjugating Akira, for turning him into a slut that would do anything he wanted.

The drug, Tae had told Akira, was for protecting him, shutting down his mind to shield him from whatever act of violence they threw at him.

It turned him into Joker, and Akira was the only person who knew exactly what it did.

“Thinking of something nice?” Akechi hummed, hugging Akira sweetly, and all Akira could feel in his body’s warmth was the prickle and burn of poison.

“Thinking about breakfast.” Akira replied flatly. “But with how you’re clinging to me, and that _thing_ poking my side…”

Akechi chuckled. “The scraps will do.”

“Now who's the mutt here, exactly?” Akira smirked, and looked up into Akechi’s eyes as he felt him lift his creaking, stinging legs. The sharp jolt of protest his abused, wet hole made was nothing new, and only disinterest was on Akira’s face as Akechi spread his legs.

“I’m not a mutt by choice, Akira- _kun_.” Akechi replied cheerfully, and he slid inside easily with a small huff of breath. Akira winced, squirming as he was breached, though the pain was numb and the slide was quick, wet and mostly painless. “Ah, _sweet_ Akira.”

“Di—did you prep me?” Akira gasped, his voice shaking as his raw insides were disturbed again, and he let out a groan of pain as Akechi sheathed in him fully, gasping in relief as Akira squeezed around him, however weakly as his walls could.

“Yes,” Akechi leaned down to kiss Akira’s abused lips, oddly gently, and Akira’s eyes slid shut as his hand came up to cup his face in a soft, warm hand.

If he could just let his mind wander some more, maybe he could—

He _could_ —

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Akechi said, and that rang true. Every single time they had sex, Akechi never skipped out on preparation, even if Akira had done it already before meeting him in the penthouse suite, or behind his college’s classroom buildings, or inside his office at the police station. Akechi had always taken his time opening Akira up with his fingers, his tongue—and the gesture was a mixed signal of tender loving care, and manipulation at its finest.

On one hand, Akechi was relatively kinder to Akira than Shido was. Akechi kissed him with a tenderness one would mistake of lovers, held him close like a beloved pillow, with an embrace so soft Akira had fallen asleep in it once. He was more considerate of Akira in bed, and had never—not _once_ —had left a mark on his body.

Shido was an entirely different story.

“My old man’s like a child, isn’t he.” He continued to say, holding himself still to wait for Akira to adjust, but the prostitute was weak-boned and even weaker-muscled, lying limp underneath him, not even half-hard. “Always playing with his toys and nearly breaking them, and I’m the one left behind to put them back together.”

“Can you not talk about him for now?” Akira sighed, “I—I want to see Morgana soon.”

“Of course.”

Akechi kissed him tenderly again, and the wet slide of Akechi’s skin on Akira’s stung and burned and tingled sweetly. Akira shut his eyes, sighing against his mouth, and imagined another mouth against his, another pair of hands gently holding his limp legs apart underneath his knees, and pleasure began to boil slowly in his gut.

Yusuke would be warm like this, probably. Yusuke would take it slowly— _slower_ , Akira thought, as Akechi slid out of him in a slow, leisurely pace. He whimpered into their kiss, and he imagined Yusuke’s hands sliding up his thigh, gripping his ass with just the right amount of strength as he slid back inside with delicious, burning friction.

His cock stirred to life.

“A- _ahh_ …” Akira moaned, as Akechi’s hand— _Yusuke’s_ hand, in his mind—slid further along his abused, bitten and bruised skin, gently wrapping around his length.

“Akira…”

His hand pumped him slowly, in time with the slow roll of his hips against him, and this wasn’t the slap of skin on skin in hard, reckless fucks.

This was the simulation of making love.

Akira shuddered, imagining red staining Yusuke’s pale cheeks, beautiful and like watercolours diffusing on water, on paper, just like the day he mustered up the courage to ask him to model for him as the florist Akira Kurusu, and not the prostitute Joker, Crown Jewel of The Metaverse. Heat blossomed in his gut as he imagined the beads of sweat that rolled down Yusuke’s face as he slowly fucked into Akira, feeling every inch of his cock rub against all the sweet places inside him, and he moaned, throwing his head back as the slowness of Akechi’s thrusts suddenly became too much.

All because another man was in his head while another fucked him in real life.

“Akira,” Akechi panted, but he was smiling, leaning down to kiss down his throat. “You’re responding.”

“J-just—” Akira didn’t want to hear him talk. The illusion was as fragile as it was impossible. “More, please. I—I want—I _need_ —”

He pulled out to push back in with slightly more force, and his body _sang_ with pleasure and pain as Akechi’s cock pushed right against his prostate. Akira tossed his head back into the pillow, gasping as he grabbed onto it behind his head, shivering as he imagined Yusuke slowly picking up the pace, his intense grey eyes never leaving his body, taking in every detail.

Yusuke had always looked at him like that, like he wanted to commit every single little piece of detail to memory, wishing to draw him, and it made fire burn underneath Akira’s skin. Yusuke’s gaze was an artist’s scan over things they captured in their art, things they made immortal with their hands, gods of their own little worlds made of brushstrokes and pencil markings on canvas, or paper, or bodies.

He let out an indecipherable noise of pleasure when Akechi hit his prostate again, and his hands shot up to his mouth, pressing down _hard_ to keep Yusuke’s name from tumbling out of it. His mouth was praised by many a customer of The Metaverse, but his tongue was a different story. Rebellious, sharp and scathing, cutting into words and shaping them into whatever his thoughts made them to be, whatever his mind had put his feelings into.

The hand on his cock sped up, as the thrusts slowly grew faster and harder, and the pain was at the back of his mind as pleasure roared in his ears, thrumming with every ebb and flow of his blood under his skin.

“Akira—” Akechi’s voice cracked in the middle, jagged and crumbling edges pressed together as haphazardly as their bodies did, and Akira let out a loud whine as he buried himself deep inside him, spilling warm wetness inside him.

In his head, Yusuke’s cool expression collapsed, scrunching up with pleasure, lines forming on his face bold and dynamic like he was a piece of artwork as well. His pleasure spilled into Akira, filling him hotly, and Akira knew he was close just from the thought of Yusuke coming inside him alone.

With a few more tugs at his cock, Akira came as well, a weak burst of white spilling from his cock and dripping down Akechi’s fingers. The two of them collapsed, Akechi pressing against Akira painfully, and the bruises began protesting anew.

With the flash of pain crossing his body, Akira was pulled—rather forcefully—back into reality, and the shape of Yusuke shattered into the shape of Akechi draped over his body, and Akira took a deep, shaky breath.

Akechi sighed happily, kissing Akira softly as he got up.

“You’re so beautiful, Akira.” He murmured.

 _“You’re beautiful.”_ Yusuke had said, and it rang in his ears louder than any of Akechi’s hollow praise ever did.

“You’re gonna have to clean me up again,” Akira replied instead, and Akechi laughed, the tinkling of snow bells, and the dull ache in Akira’s heart felt like a knife to the chest.

In another life, he and Akechi wouldn’t be like this.

In another life—maybe—he would have loved him the way Akechi loved him.

“That’s true.” Akechi chuckled. “Ever so demanding, Akira.” He said, but kissed his temple anyway. “Come, into the bathroom again, and I’ll put your burn and bruise ointment on you again afterwards.”

He carried Akira with some difficulty, but practice made perfect, and he and Akechi have had this arrangement for what felt like forever.

It was only a few years, but in The Metaverse, a day felt like a month, and months bled into years, into eternities of endless nights and sins and sex.

Akira could spend all day thinking wishful, foolish thoughts—and nothing would change.

He and Akechi, his friends—his _family_ , were all stuck in the distorted hell that The Metaverse became, and he did not love Goro Akechi the way Akechi wanted him to.

And somehow, he was fine with that.

* * *

 _The Wildcard_ was the fastest portrait Yusuke had ever finished. The bowl of miso soup beside him had grown cold, the surface dotted with yellow spots of frozen lard, forgotten in the frenzy of colour and brush strokes that brought his latest portrait to life.

The memories of Joker’s smile, his voice, his beautiful body were still vivid in his mind as he painted from the morning until late in the afternoon, not stopping until he heard the sound of his teacher’s voice behind him.

“Oh, Yusuke. You haven't moved all day?”

He jumped, and the red that he had been using for Joker’s lipstick smeared sharply to the right. Yusuke jumped, watching the crimson streak stain Joker’s chin, and the image felt… more complete.

Madarame approached to stand beside him, humming thoughtfully at the portrait.

“Unforgettable man, isn't he?”

The young man looked at his teacher, and back at the portrait.

It was an adaptation of the sketch Yusuke made of Joker, the sexy, beguiling sprawl still very much the most prominent aspect of the artwork. He had kept most of Joker’s image intact—the sight of his catlike body was seemingly burned into the back of his eyelids, but the part that stood out the most were his eyes.

Luminous and crafty, framed by that pied mask, they seemed to hold the secrets of the world, and called out to the viewer to come closer, to not be so scared, to _relax_ , and—

_“Please, Fox.” He begged. “Let me… let me please you.”_

Yusuke felt heat flare in his body, and he coughed delicately as he tore his eyes away from Joker’s eyes. He had planned to paint the smirk Joker had on his face at the poker tables, but with the way his jumping hand had smeared the red of his lipstick to the side, it looked like Joker had been freshly kissed, mouth swollen and shining, lipstick smeared to the side.

Yusuke reached for a fine-tip brush and combined colours to the shade of peach that was Joker’s skin, and adjusted his mouth into a cocky grin.

“Like he was freshly kissed, the wild card smirks and challenges fate once again.” Yusuke said after the long moment of silence that lapsed between him and his teacher, and he put his brush down again. “That… that is what I aim to capture.”

“Impressive.” Madarame nodded. “You’ll sign this under your name.”

Yusuke jumped, and he looked at his teacher. The man leered at him knowingly. “After all, it would be odd for a man my age to be painting beautiful prostitutes like that publicly.” He patted Yusuke’s shoulder heavily. “And this batch’s theme differs from this one, anyway. You may have Joker to yourself.”

“Th-thank you.” Yusuke nodded, and Madarame strode off. The younger man watched him leave, and turned to look back at the Joker he painted.

_“The Joker card does not exist in any of the games we play.”_

His teacher's words echoed in his mind, and he laughed softly to himself.

 _This_ was the Joker that everyone had met. The Joker that this young man wore as a mask to face his customer, complete strangers that knew him by his body, not his heart.

That Joker didn't exist, just like Madarame said.

The _real_ Joker had burned and bruised skin, a smile with a curve gentler than the petals of wilting white lilies, and people precious to himself, so precious that he was willing to do the Devil’s work to keep them on the road to God.

What he would give to know what was beneath Joker’s mask, he thought, and he finally deemed himself done. He leaned back to inspect every detail of the portrait of the Joker that didn't exist, and he smiled.

“I'll see you again,” he said, and got up to silence the now-distracting rumbling of his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 13 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> “How about the Nijima will?”
> 
> “I haven't found it yet.” Akira replied. “He doesn't trust me enough to bring me to his apartment.”
> 
> “Damn it.” Sojiro shook his head. “I… I hate seeing you coming home like this.” Akira gave him a sad smile, and Sojiro ruffled his hair. “You're practically my son too, Akira. The outrage I feel about Futaba working in a place like The Metaverse is the same I feel about you working there.”
> 
> “Believe me, I feel the same.” Akira sighed. “But I've got to save everyone, and I'll hold on until I find that will.”
> 
> “You're sure it exists?” Sojiro cocked his head, and Akira nodded. 
> 
> “Arsene doesn't lie to me.” He said with utmost confidence. “And Akechi said he saw it, too.”


	13. sur les connexions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (on connections)
> 
> “And that's all of it.”
> 
> The young woman with fluffy brown hair frowned at Ohya, and the older woman cocked her head at her, hand at her hip. “What's the matter? Did we do something wrong?”
> 
> “Barring illegally filming people without their consent?” She sighed. “No, not at all.” She shook her head. “It's just… something feels… missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > is it polite for me to whip out the old psp on the jeep and spread the word of the lord, persona 2 innocent sin
>> 
>> — SAXOPHONE ARSENE@P5D (@trickscd) [1 August 2017](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/892242405491040257)
> 
> **BANGS POTS AND PANS PLAY PERSONA 2 IS/EP OR I WILL START A RIOT** but also now because im playing said game you can bet your ass the p2 references will be Prevalent ~~and later on Very Important To The Plot~~. me, a ~~katsuya~~ suou brothers stan, will make sure my dear love is integrated Very Importantly In The Story (with apologies to tatsujun fans, including myself, i tried, i really did,)
> 
> anyway, moving back to p5 MY GF IS HERE I'M SO PUMPT YAY SHE IS HERE and hten disappears again for a while..... forgive me............ anyway but yeah i hope, , ,, y'all are still having fun, , ,, thank you so much for the support guys i literally crie,, , , every tinme,,
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

“And that's all of it.”

The young woman with fluffy brown hair frowned at Ohya, and the older woman cocked her head at her, hand at her hip. “What's the matter? Did we do something wrong?”

“Barring illegally filming people without their consent?” She sighed. “No, not at all.” She shook her head. “It's just… something feels… missing.”

Ohya peered at the laptop sitting across the young woman, innocently perched on the table, where the frozen image of a young man in a white suit, wearing a red mask was. He was frowning at somewhere above the camera, hand under his chin and his other one on a gambling chip. His leg was crossed over the other, and he made quite the picture, with soft brown hair and youthful lips.

“Ain't this evidence enough that that Ace Detective Goro Akechi _is_ the gambler we’re looking for?” Ohya scratched the side of her head, looking lost, but the young woman shook her head.

“Oh, no, that evidence is fine.” She replied, but her hands balled into fists on her lap. “What happened to the person who shot this video?”

Ohya’s eyes shifted nervously. “Whaddaya mean?”

“This person isn't you or Seiji-san.” The girl replied. “They spent an awful lot of time with this Azazel person.” She frowned. “How are you sure they aren’t part of the conspiracy?”

“Ah, hell.” Ohya sighed. “Okay, I guess I'll just tell you who we got for this.” She said. “His name’s Yusuke Kitagawa, he's an art student and Ichiryusai Madarame’s adoptee.” The girl’s eyes widened. “I struck a deal with him a while back to do the evidence filming in the Metaverse because his teacher’s part of the conspiracy.” The brunette’s eyes hardened on her, and Ohya back-pedalled quickly. “Oh, don't worry! He had no idea. That's why he wanted to go and see the truth for himself. I stuck a camera on him and the rest is all his doing.”

The girl frowned at the paused video of the young man. “Akechi-san is glaring at him rather aggressively. What happened? Is he safe now?”

“Well, we saw from the vid that he, a newbie, straight up defied Akechi and _won_.” The young woman blinked at Ohya as a wide, proud smile crossed her face.

“What did he win?” She asked. “A-aside from the given that it's money, of course.”

“A night with a prostitute.” Ohya replied cheekily, and the young woman’s cheeks turned pink.

“O-oh.”

“Don't worry, Haru-chan!” Ohya guffawed, “I'm not showing you anything hardcore!”

Haru’s pink cheeks darkened.

“O-Ohya-san!” She stuttered, and the woman laughed.

“Nah, I'm kidding. Yusuke-kun is a good kid. He didn't sleep with the prostitute.” She said. “They had a pretty interesting conversation, though.”

“Which prostitute was this?” Haru asked, and Ohya nodded, turning to the laptop to search for the footage she mentioned.

“His name’s Joker. He's called the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse.” She said. “Uh, sorry, but I think your dad’s sampled him a few times, too.”

Haru paled. “I-I see.” She said, swallowing nervously. “May I see him? I have something I need to confirm.”

“Sure.” Ohya nodded, skipping forward a video several times, but Haru could see the story it told.

Yusuke was escorted by two of the casino staff upstairs into the suites, and then taken into a private elevator that led straight to a penthouse suite.

Yes—she remembered this room. The bugged necktie pin she snuck onto her father’s tie took photographs of the same room, though the painting was a new addition.

She'd seen that painting before, on a trip to the gallery with her father. The _Incarceration,_ the only artwork by Madarame’s student, featured as guest artwork in his gallery.

Though, with Ohya’s information, Haru could assume that _all_ of the artworks Madarame produced was Yusuke's.

“ _Beautiful painting, isn't it?_ ”

Joker’s voice made Yusuke jump, and he whirled around to look at the prostitute. Haru’s eyes widened and she gripped Ohya’s wrist, and the woman paused the video to let her look at the prostitute.

“Someone you know?” She asked softly.  

“I… no, it can't be.” Haru breathed. “That's… that's too cruel!” She buried her face in her hands, and Ohya rubbed her back.

“Who is it?”

“A-Akira-kun.” Haru replied shakily. “Th-there's no mistaking it. He may look… different, but I would know him just by looking.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “He's the part-time barista at the café I frequent. And he's a florist at a flower shop in the underground mall in Shibuya.”

“Huh.” Ohya deflated. “Not gonna lie, I assumed… bigger.”

Haru shook her head. “Oh, Akira-kun… I didn't…” she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “I need to talk to Kitagawa-kun.”

Ohya blinked at her. “Why?”

“Akira-kun mentioned that he liked a boy named Yusuke Kitagawa,” she said, and Ohya’s eyes widened. “I need to talk to him, and ask for his help.”

“H-hey, wait, you—”

“Ohya-san, please arrange for me to meet with Kitagawa-kun.” Haru said politely. “I think he would be great help for us in this case.”

Ohya sighed, running her hand through her hair. “Man, this started off with you worrying about your dad and his late nights, and now here you are, chasing after conspiracies.” Haru looked at her worriedly, but Ohya simply grinned at her. “I'm glad you got a nice sense of justice, Haru-chan. I bet you'll save a lot of people like that.”

She flushed prettily. “I just don't want people to suffer while I could do something about it.”

Ohya chuckled. “That's true.” Her phone buzzed, and she jumped, making Haru jump in surprise as well. “Oh, damn. Sorry! Lemme just take a look at this.” She laughed sheepishly, and looked at the message. Haru patiently waited for Ohya to finish, but her eyebrows lifted in curiosity when Ohya lit up.

“Oh, shit!”

“I-is something the matter, Ohya-san?” Haru asked nervously.

“It’s pretty big, alright.” Ohya nodded enthusiastically. “My senpai from my first job got a hold of a huge breakthrough—my old boss, Amano-san, apparently knows a _lot_ about Shido and his shady business.”

“R-really?” Haru’s eyes widened, and Ohya snickered, typing back a message on her phone.

“Oh, yeah. She’s got an insider in the freaking police force. And he’s not one of Shido’s.” She said, tapping away at her phone, and she paused, cocking her head at it. “Ooh, he’s kinda hot, too.”

Haru laughed weakly. “O-Ohya-san…”

“Katsuya Suou. According to my old boss, he’s been working on Shido’s bullshit undercover for _years._ I think we’ll get something even bigger, Haru-chan!”

Haru nodded, eyes wide. “P-please, when you can—”

“I’ll get him a ticket to Tokyo, stat! We’ll need to hear this live!” She cackled, “Oh, Haru-chan, I’ve never felt so alive!”

Haru watched her laugh delightedly, dancing around her room, and looked down at her phone, where the photograph of a bespectacled brunet man frowned severely at nothing.

“Suou-san… why does that name feel so… familiar, somehow?”

* * *

“I'll see you again later tonight?” Akechi asked, smiling sweetly at Akira as he pulled on his car’s handbrake.

“Yeah.” Akira sighed. “ _He's…_ not coming over tonight, is he?”

“Perhaps not.” The brunet replied, taking Akira’s hand and squeezing it gently. The younger man had a downcast expression on his face, and Akechi huffed fondly, cupping Akira’s cheek with his hand. “A smile, for me to carry through my day today?”

Akira gave him a withering grin, and Akechi laughed.

“Beautiful.” He said anyway, and kissed him.

Akira was the first to pull away, and he got out of the car. Akechi watched him pick up his bag from the back, and then watched over him as he walked into the alleyway and turned to head into a café. With a nod, he drove away, and Akira peered at the main road to watch his car leave.

He heaved a sigh of relief, and headed inside.

The cafe was empty, despite the time of day, but Akira knew this was the norm of his home.

“I'm home.” He said quietly, and the barista, a middle-aged man, huffed. Akira shrugged at him nonchalantly. “Is Morgana at school?”

“Yeah. Though he was pretty pissed this morning to find you weren't around.” He said, but he started fixing the young man a cup of coffee. Akira smiled at him tiredly and slumped down on a stool in front of him. The man gave him a look, and his gaze softened. “You alright? They didn't beat you up too bad, did they?”

“Thanks for the coffee, Sojiro-san.” He sighed into the cup, and Sojiro huffed again.

“You're loopy enough to be calling me that.” He said.

It was a system he and Sojiro came up with to speak in tones Morgana couldn't read between. With those few words, Sojiro knew, and that was all he needed to hear.

“Have you seen Tae?”

“Akechi took me to her.”

“Breakfast?”

Akira thought back to the memory of Akechi’s mouth on his, passing food into his mouth as he laughed softly, and Akira sighed, lowering his head.

“I've had something.” He replied, and Sojiro nodded.

“Morgana left you some curry.” He said, and Akira smiled. Sojiro mirrored his smile with a grin, and turned to pick up a cartoonish plate with a cat design from the microwave. “He insisted we put it on his plate after he washed it himself.”

“That's sweet.” Akira replied, his stomach rumbling at the smell of Leblanc curry, and Sojiro set the plate down in front of him.

“The kid really loves you.” Sojiro chuckled. “Hey,” he sighed, leaning on the bar across Akira as he began to eat. “You sure you can't leave that… job of yours?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck. “You've got two jobs, and you're friends with that Lupin person—”

Akira snorted. “With benefits.”

“ _Friends._ ” Sojiro scowled. “That pink diamond—”

Akira blushed deeply. “Boss, don't.”

The man was suddenly grinning. “He gave you that diamond for free. All he asked for was a kiss from you, right in the middle of the cafe.” He snickered. “You know, why don't you just marry him? Go on a trip to France, get a vacation while you're at it? Morgana would love that.”

“I…” Akira snorted softly. “You're sounding like a dad again, Boss.”

Sojiro smirked at him. “Well, if it wasn't you, it's Futaba I'd be nagging.”

The both of the dissolved into laughter, and the air was warm and comfortably homey. Eventually, they fell quiet, and Akira finished off his breakfast.

“Hey,” Sojiro said after a long moment of thought. “The debt… shouldn't it be wiped away by now?”

“No.” Akira replied quietly, setting his spoon down. “Things… keep happening, and Shido, he just…” he looked off to the side. “I can't stop working now. Not yet.”

Sojiro deflated. “How about the Nijima will?”

“I haven't found it yet.” Akira replied. “He doesn't trust me enough to bring me to his apartment.”

“Damn it.” Sojiro shook his head. “I… I hate seeing you coming home like this.” Akira gave him a sad smile, and Sojiro ruffled his hair. “You're practically my son too, Akira. The outrage I feel about Futaba working in a place like The Metaverse is the same I feel about you working there.”

“Believe me, I feel the same.” Akira sighed. “But I've got to save everyone, and I'll hold on until I find that will.”

“You're sure it exists?” Sojiro cocked his head, and Akira nodded.

“Arsene doesn't lie to me.” He said with utmost confidence. “And Akechi said he saw it, too.”

Sojiro shook his head. “That Akechi kid… sketchy bastard, isn't he? Showing up all proper and sweet on TV, but…”

“He fucks me gently, though.” Akira shrugged, and Sojiro snorted.  

“That's the least of the things he's done.” He said dryly. “Fine.” He sighed deeply. “You don't have to come in for work today, and I've already called Rafflesia this early morning. Just get some rest, you look like you really need it.”

“Thanks.” Akira deflated. “I'm gonna just,” his sentence was interrupted by a yawn, and Sojiro chuckled fondly at him.

“I'll wash that for you.” He said. “Go to bed.”

Akira laughed sheepishly, and nodded. He headed upstairs sluggishly, practically dragging his bag behind him, and when he reached the attic, the sound of a tiny meow caught his attention. A fond smile crossed his face as a kitten hurried to him and weaved around his ankles as he made it to the larger of two beds, and he picked it up gently to kiss its head.

“Hi, Mona. Miss me?”

The kitten meowed, and licked his finger.

Akira chuckled softly, and toed his shoes off as he sat down on his bed. “Missed you too, little guy.” He murmured, settling down into bed. “Wanna keep me company? We can go get Morgana together later.”

The kitten meowed again, tucking itself into the crook of Akira’s neck as he curled up on his side, and he smiled, his eyes sliding shut.

“Fluffy,” he muttered, before sleep finally took him.

He dreamed of foxes and tail-paintbrushes, vivid, bright acrylics on canvas, and the _Incarceration’s_ bars slamming down in front of him, caging him away from the white fox that simply watched, and painted.

* * *

He didn't come tonight.

Joker looked out at the crowd of people that night at The Metaverse, and found no white fox masks, just plain, dark ones that melted into bodies, into crowds, sneaking hands and cheating eyes.

A rotund man wrapped his arm around Joker’s waist and pulled him close, dragging him down onto the chair he plopped down on at a gambling table. That earned them dirty, jealous looks from the other players at the table, but the man, feeling like a winner with The Metaverse’s Crown Jewel on his lap, paid them no attention. He smelled like cigarettes and the champagne he spilled on the front of his suit, and Joker hid his cringe with a deep, sultry chuckle.

Tonight had Joker in a sleek black dress with a halterneck and a backless dip that reached his tailbone. The dress shimmered with Swarovski crystals, the skirt flowing straight down like tar against his skin, and the slit reached almost the height of the dress’s dip in his back. He was also wearing long, red gloves that went up to his elbows and a gaudy diamond necklace, presented to him grandly by a patron he knew was former nobility.

He would have to ask Arsene how much it was worth, when the man came around back to Japan. He'd been looking for a several-times-stolen necklace, he’d said, a Lupin family treasure (and, of course, stolen from French nobility by his ancestors). Perhaps it was this one.

The gentleman he was with right now, however, was not the same one that gave him the necklace. Joker wasn't completely sure who this was, but the voice and the body type told him a possible Diet party member, a lapdog of Masayoshi Shido. Earlier that evening he'd been dragged from the former nobleman’s spectacle to meet the man and keep him company for the evening, as per Samael’s orders.

“Joker,” the man slurred, burying his face into the crook of Joker’s neck. “You… smell s’good. Like flowers.”

“They're lilies, sir.” He giggled softly, subtly pulling away from the man as best as he could. “White lilies, to be precise.”

“Hmph, flowers. What'ver.” He mumbled, feeling up Joker’s ass with a lecherous laugh. Joker forced a laugh of his own, playfully batting at his arm.

“Hey, not in front of everyone,” he said coyly. “They already know I'm yours for tonight, the rest…” he leaned up to lick the shell of the man’s ear. “We should keep to ourselves. In the suites I'll show you…” he ran a gloved finger down his chest, and the man shuddered. “ _Everything._ ”

“Fuck,” the man panted, and Joker could feel his growing erection under him. He ground down against it, and the man began humping him.

“Ooh, you perv.” Joker chuckled. “Why don't you fold and let's take this upstairs, hm?”

“Fuck, yes,” the man quickly got up, and Joker slid off him gracefully to take his hand and pull him along.

He made his way through the crowds to make it to the door that led to the elevators up, and Skull and Lune got up from their seats to nod and bow at him and his customer.

“To the suite, please.” Joker said, and the man behind him nodded excitedly.

Skull opened the door behind him and gestured for them to follow him, Lune at his heels. His two friends shot him a pitying look, and Joker could only smile in defeat.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he said softly, for only the two of them to hear, and Skull patted his shoulder.

“Tomorrow.” He said, and led the group into the elevator that led to Joker’s suite.

After frisking the man, Skull reluctantly let him in after Joker, and when the doors shut behind them, the blond looked at his partner witheringly.

“He's not coming back, is he, Mishima.”

“Have faith, Sakamoto.” He replied quietly. “The Yusuke Kurusu-san fell in love with wouldn't leave him alone just like that.”

* * *

“Ooh, you'll have to pay for that!” Joker giggled, and his sheer dress was torn from the slit to the backless part. “I liked that dress.”

“I'll buy you so much more,” the man grinned, and he dragged Joker into bed, climbing over him with a predatory leer on his face. “I'll buy you everything you want me to. Samael wasn't kidding when he said you were gorgeous.”

Joker chuckled. “Thank you.” He reached up to press a switch on the headboard, and the lights toned down to a sensual dim red. “Will you uphold your end of your bargain with my master?”

“Suck me off first, slut, and I'll consider.”

“Nuh-uh.” Joker suddenly lifted his leg to press his foot—still in his stiletto heels—against the man’s erection, earning him a groan of approval. “I'm expensive, and you're getting me for free, darling. That's the deal.”

“Yes,” the man panted, “I'll have the state funds for the transport section transferred to The Metaverse account tomorrow evening.”

Joker resisted the urge to growl. He _knew_ it—he _was_ a politician. The transportation secretary.

“Good boy,” he purred anyway, taking his shoe off his cock. “Take the rest of my clothes off and I'll show you how good a fuck I am.”

“Keep the necklace on,” the man grinned, but he was taking the shoe off already. “The Queen’s Necklace is beautiful on you.”

Ah, so it _was_ the necklace Arsene was looking for.

“Heh, thanks.” Joker purred. “Well, get on with it then. Tear it all off, big boy.”

Another night like the other nights, he thought, it was just like any other night.

Yusuke would come back, he thought, taking in the man’s cock into his mouth.

_He promised._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 14 preview!**  
>   
> 
> “Ah, yes. Red carnations, erm—” the voice was deep, soft and awkward around Japanese, but Akira recognised it anyway. “Red rose—no thorns, please.” The florist giggled at that. “And… white lilies.”
> 
> Akira swore, shaking his head. No way. 
> 
> “Ah, _merci_.”
> 
> He hurried outside to see a tall gentleman in a deep red three-piece suit, holding a bouquet of the flowers he requested. 
> 
> “Arsene?” He breathed, and beside him Hanasaki gasped softly.
> 
> “Oh! You know each other?”
> 
> “Akira.” Arsene smiled sweetly, and much to the other florist’s delight, he handed the flowers to Akira. “This is for you.”


	14. le gentleman cambrioleur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the gentleman burglar)
> 
> “Kurusu-kun,” Hanasaki hissed teasingly. “Don't be so prickly to the gentleman!” She elbowed him. “Introduce us!”
> 
> Akira rolled his eyes. Arsene laughed softly, and he bowed to her, removing his hat. “ _Bonjour, mademoiselle_. My name is Arsene Lupin.”
> 
> “The fourth.” Akira added flatly, and the woman giggled. 
> 
> “It's nice to meet you. My name is Hanasaki.” She said. “Are you boyfriends?”
> 
> “Absolutely,” Arsene replied, as Akira said, “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > to write the casino au is to suffer because i could have entered nanowrimo with this with plenty of words to spare........ [pic.twitter.com/156xB3oJ2K](https://t.co/156xB3oJ2K)
>> 
>> — bukkun/arsenefukr69 (@trickscd) [8 August 2017](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/894907714781839360)
> 
> hi so the fic hit 61.9k recently....... chapter 25....... we've got a long way to go........ i want this to be over, please dear god..... have mercy....... my depression isn't letting me have any of this shit lmao
> 
> in other news **my husband, the best boy, best persona, sexiest monster arsene has arrived i haven't stopped beating at my dick i love him so much** anyway hi i want arsene to step on me with his knife boots, killing me instantly
> 
> fun fact the chapter title is the original title of the arsene lupin short story compilation aptly named _Arsène Lupin, gentleman cambrioleur_. it quickly became a personal favourite. fuck sherlock holmes, arsene lupin is the best boy, fite me
> 
> for those looking for that sweet sweet ~~tatsujun~~ p2 content it won't be super obvious until like, chapter 21. chapter 24 is the good tatsujun family shit, very warm and soft. features kid!akira and even younger!morgana, fluff, kittens and tatsuya crashign the party but in a nice way. kitashu porn is in chapter 20. honestly all the good shit happens beyond ch 20 but i hope you all will like the upcoming playing poker with tarot cards game i wrote i worked hard on that.............
> 
> ~~it's also hte first day of classes @ my uni and im depressed as hell orayt~~
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

Time marched on in its inevitability, and Yusuke found himself staring at wilting white lilies again. In the excitement of finding The Metaverse, he had forgotten about his beautiful Akira—well, not exactly _his,_ he reminded himself—and the fact he had to come back to Rafflesia to pick up new flowers for his mother’s shrine.

 _The Wildcard_ hung from a temporary frame across his mother’s serene face, the exact opposite tumultuous violence of lust to her placid, peaceful love for her son, and Yusuke couldn't help but smile at the thought.

Life had a form of poetry of its own. Fate played games the way he and Crow duelled a few nights ago.

Tonight, as with the other nights, he assumed Joker would come back again to The Metaverse, laying with another man or woman who would touch him the way Yusuke had refused to. Maybe Joker was thinking of him while they kissed him. Maybe Joker would shut his eyes and think of Fox’s hands on his body instead of someone else’s.

Yusuke shook his head.

“I'm thinking like a lovestruck fool,” he muttered. “Flattering as the thought may be, I only love Akira.”

Who, as of yet, _definitely_ didn't love him back.

What a conundrum.

“Ah, Yusuke.” Madarame said from the doorway, and Yusuke turned to bow at him respectfully. “Is the _Wildcard_ ready?”

“Yes, sensei.” He replied, taking it off its peg on the wall. “Its frame will be different come the exhibition, yes?”

“Certainly.” Madarame nodded. “Well done, my boy.”

“Thank you.” Yusuke followed his teacher out of the room to head to the front door, where a small truck was parked and already loaded with the other artworks Yusuke had finished. The delivery man there gave Yusuke a friendly smile and cocked his hat in greeting.

Yusuke answered with a smile of his own, and let the man load The Wildcard into the truck with him.

“Is that yours, young man?” He asked while Madarame was out of earshot, and Yusuke nodded. “It's gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” Yusuke flushed slightly, and the man gave him a friendly grin.

“A’ight, I'm off to Ueno.” He declared, going around to meet Madarame. “Madarame-san, to the usual gallery?”

“Ah, yes.” Madarame nodded. “Do have Ishida-san take care of the framing again. I shall oversee layouting myself.”

“Gotcha.” The man declared. “We'll see you later, Madarame-san.” He nodded at Yusuke. “Sonny.”

“Goodbye,” Yusuke waved at him slowly, and he and his teacher watched him drive off.

“Ah, by the way, Yusuke,” Madarame nodded, “I do believe I have something for you.”

Yusuke cocked his head. “What is it, Sensei?”

“Come inside, after me.”

He followed him inside, and Madarame picked up an envelope on the table. “This is yours, for finishing the artworks early, and…” there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Your victory over Crow.”

Yusuke gaped at him.

“Ah, the look on that brat’s face. How I wish we could have captured it.” Yusuke did, he thought, thinking back to the bugged rose corsage on his person. “That was a wonderful night. I hope you can bring me more joy—and more money—as before. Consider this as… incentive.”

Yusuke looked into the envelope to find a thick wad of cash. His eyes widened at his teacher, who laughed warmly.

“Yes.” He said. “You've impressed me a great deal that night. Continue performing exceptionally.”

“I… yes.” Yusuke said slowly. “Thank you… sensei.”

“And—I heard from friends that it seems Joker has taken a special interest in you.” The man leered. “It was rather obvious in the way he sought you out after the dice game.”

Yusuke blushed, lowering his head in embarrassment.

“Good thing that you did. Seduce him, Yusuke. If you have him wrapped around your finger, I can have leverage against Samael.” Madarame smirked. “The man refuses to admit it, but the prostitute has not only his cock, but his heart as well.”

Yusuke blinked at him. “Seduce… Joker?”

“He's already infatuated with you, it is not a tall task to get him to fall the rest of the way.” Madarame replied dismissively. “Regardless. I will be off for this evening to sort out the exhibit for next week. On days you do not have classes, I expect you to help out at the exhibit.”

“Understood.”

“Oh, and I will be returning to The Metaverse this weekend as well.” Yusuke lit up at that, and Madarame smirked at him. “Leviathan enjoys my exhibits, and I do believe I can have the time to have a word with Mammon about business.” He nodded. “And you, Yusuke, can busy yourself with seducing Joker as best you can.”

“Yes, sensei.” Yusuke nodded eagerly. Another chance to talk to Joker—maybe he can help him this time.

“Good.” Madarame nodded. “I will be late tonight, so do not forget to lock up.”

“Yes, sensei.” He replied, and watched the man leave. He bounced on his heels for a moment, and jolted in realisation.

His mother’s flowers were wilting.

It was time to see Akira again.

He heaved a sigh of relief. It had felt like an eternity since he last saw his florist, and he suddenly couldn't wait any longer. He hurried into his room to get dressed properly, and took some money from the envelope to stuff into his wallet.

He was out of the door in less than a minute.

* * *

Akira felt exhausted. It was like Shido was striking shady deals left and right, and Akira had been sleeping with increasingly shady people the past few days.

“Kurusu-kun?” Even the florist had noted his exhaustion, and mercifully let him work at the back to handle the less tiresome jobs. He had to at least make it up for her.

“Hanasaki-san.”

“Could you hand me extra plastic wraps? I’ve only got three left.”

“On it.” He nodded, and headed to the backroom, only to jump at the sound of a familiar voice outside.

“Ah, yes. Red carnations, erm—” the voice was deep, soft and awkward around Japanese, but Akira recognised it anyway. “Red rose—no thorns, please.” The florist giggled at that. “And… white lilies.”

Akira swore, shaking his head. No way.

“Ah, _merci._ ”

He hurried outside to see a tall gentleman in a deep red three-piece suit, holding a bouquet of the flowers he requested.

“Arsene?” He breathed, and beside him Hanasaki gasped softly.

“Oh! You know each other?”

“Akira.” Arsene smiled sweetly, and much to the other florist’s delight, he handed the flowers to Akira. “This is for you _._ ” He said, chuckling as Akira looked down at the flowers exasperatedly.

“Oh,” she sighed, “Kurusu-kun, that's so romantic!”

Akira had read Flowerpedia, and he knew Arsene never did anything without purpose—red carnations, _my heart aches for you_. Red roses without thorns, _love at first sight_. White lilies, _purity_.

“You're ridiculous.” Akira deadpanned, but his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “What're you doing here?”

“Kurusu-kun,” Hanasaki hissed teasingly. “Don't be so prickly to the gentleman!” She elbowed him. “Introduce us!”

Akira rolled his eyes. Arsene laughed softly, and he bowed to her, removing his hat. “ _Bonjour, mademoiselle_. My name is Arsene Lupin _._ ”

“The fourth.” Akira added flatly, and the woman giggled.

“It's nice to meet you. My name is Hanasaki.” She said. “Are you boyfriends?”

“Absolutely,” Arsene replied, as Akira said, “No.”

Hanasaki blinked at the two of them, cocking her head. “Oh, so it's like _that?_ ” She asked, and it was Arsene’s turn to look confused. Akira shook his head, and waved at Arsene to come to the back. Hanasaki looked on fondly, and politely moved to the front to watch the rest of the store.

“Look, just—what're you doing here? Someone could recognise you!” Akira hissed, and the thief laughed.

“I never use this face when I steal things, Akira.” He grinned. “Only when I'm facing you.” He took Akira’s hand and kissed it. His smile muted in its brightness as he leant closer, continuing in a lowered tone.  “The Queen’s Necklace. Where is it?”

“Back at Leblanc.” Akira replied quietly, pulling his hand away from Arsene. “Can you just—wait until tonight in The Metaverse. Buy my evening or whatever, and come see me in my suite. We'll talk more there, okay?”

“Understood.” Arsene nodded, before lowering his voice to a low rumble. “I've found some interesting things about your Kitagawa boy, as well as his teacher. And an update on The Metaverse’s dealings abroad.”

Akira sighed. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” The thief smiled. “You recovered a family heirloom, this is the least I could do.”

“Just a week ago you told me information from gentleman thieves was expensive.” Akira smirked at him, and Arsene laughed again.

“I just wanted an excuse to see you.” He said. “I will be here in Japan for a month, possibly. On top of business here in Tokyo and elsewhere, Madarame has an exhibit opening soon and I plan to steal something.”

“Oh?” Akira raised an eyebrow at him, and the man’s grin widened.

“One for you, and one for me.” He said. “As of late his artwork has become absolutely gorgeous. He apparently also has turned back to his old ways of a singular style. Or, perhaps…”

Akira’s eyes widened, and he gaped at him.

“Yes.” Arsene chuckled darkly. “Young Yusuke Kitagawa does indeed produce _all_ the artwork in Madarame’s shows. No doubt he is being kept in an abysmal state as well.”

Akira bit his lip. “I want to save him.”

“I knew you would say that.” Arsene’s voice was fond. “Very well. Let us discuss your plan of action at The Metaverse tonight.”

“You’d better make sure you’ll see me tonight, Samael’s been striking deals left and right, and—”

“I have already contacted Samael.” Arsene cut him off. “I think he will like the Van Gogh I had delivered to his office in the Diet building.”

“Van Gogh…” Akira gaped, and Arsene laughed heartily.

“And you know I never deal in counterfeits.” He lifted Akira’s face by his chin. “You're mine tonight, so rest assured no harm will come to you.”

Akira sighed, exhausted. “Thanks.” He said. “This week’s been hell.”

“I'd imagine. The bags under your eyes are unbecoming, but you are still beautiful nonetheless.”

“Ew, I'm not your Miss Nellie.” Akira smirked, batting his hand away, and Arsene chuckled.

“No, I suppose not.” The man shook his head fondly. “Pity.”

Akira rolled his eyes. “By the way, why the gratuitous French? You can speak Japanese alright.”

“A gentleman is always charming to those he meets, Akira.” Arsene huffed, dusting imaginary dust off his impeccable suit with a satisfied smirk. “Mademoiselle Hanasaki was very pleased to know I was French, you saw her—I simply indulged in her pleasures.”

“God, don’t say it like that.” Akira wheezed, and the man laughed along with him. “Get going, you big nerd. I’m technically still at work.”

“Very well, I shall head to Yongen-Jaya to greet the Sakuras and Morgana as well before checking into my hotel.” He nodded, and the two of them walked out of the flower shop booth.

“Oh, leaving already, Monsieur?” Hanasaki asked Arsene, and the man nodded, offering her a handsome smile and a tip of his hat.

“Yes, I still have business to attend to.” He said. “Akira, care for the flowers, alright? They truly do mean my feelings for you.”

“Shut up,” Akira rolled his eyes bemusedly, but he didn't pull away when Arsene leant down to press a kiss to his lips.

* * *

Yusuke came to a stop at the middle of the hallway of the underground mall, his eyes going wide when he saw a tall man in a crimson suit lean down and kiss Akira. His heart leapt to his throat, clogging it with a burning emotion that stung his eyes, and his blood felt like eyes that tumbled painfully on sharp points that dug into his veins. Akira’s eyes slid shut as the man cupped his cheek in his gloved hand, leaning into their kiss, and Yusuke could see a bouquet of red and white flowers in his arms, squashed between their two bodies.

The other florist seemed delighted to see them kissing.

Yusuke felt the exact opposite, lurching, heaving and heavy, sitting like a weight on his chest.

They pulled apart, and Akira’s smile at the man was the final nail in the coffin.

It was fond, soft and his lips shaped around the words, “ _I'll see you later,_ ” and Yusuke’s breaths burned and heaved with the shards of his heart stabbed into his lungs. The man greeted the two florists politely, before striding away, towards the other side of the underground mall. Akira’s eyes met his, and like snapping out of a stupor, his world began to move again.

His legs moved of their own accord, dragging him to Rafflesia to see Akira’s shocked expression, and the flowers in his arms dropped to the floor.

“Yusuke-san…” he breathed, and Yusuke gave him a withering smile.

“Akira-san, your… boyfriend’s bouquet is beautiful.” He said softly. “Please, for his sake, do care for it better.” He picked the bouquet up, and he looked down at the white lilies in them. His heart lurched at the sight of them, and Akira held his wrist.

“He's not my boyfriend,” Akira blurted out, and his cheeks were pale, colour drained from shock. “Please, don't misunderstand.”

“He kissed you.” Yusuke replied quietly. “And… this bouquet. It has quite the meaning.”

Akira wilted, sighing deeply as Yusuke gently fixed the flowers, correcting the droop of the lilies and lifting the folded petals of the carnations. He handed the bouquet back to Akira dejectedly, and the young man hesitantly took it from him.

“He loves you very much, Akira-san.” He said, and Akira shook his head, his expression melting into frustration.

“No, that’s—” He cut himself off with a small growl, “I, look, he’s just a friend.”

Yusuke peered at him through his bangs, and Akira huffed.

“The one I like, it’s—” he cut himself off, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“There is no need for an apology.” Yusuke replied stiffly. “You have the right to choose your lover.” He bowed his head. “I’m here to purchase some new lilies again.”

“R-right, I’m on it.” Akira looked defeated, somehow, and hurried to make Yusuke’s order. He heard a small huff of fondness beside him, and Yusuke turned to see the other florist—Hanasaki, her nametag read, and he bowed at her respectfully.

“My payment.” He said, handing her the cash, and she took it from him kindly.

“Ah, Kurusu-kun has it rough, doesn’t he?” She said, and Yusuke could only nod quietly. “Don’t worry; knowing the kind of person he is, he’ll definitely sort this out.”

Yusuke frowned. “Yes, he will.”

Truth be told, there wasn't a lot he knew about Akira—he was a florist at the Shibuya underground mall, he had a night job he rushed to after this one, and he sometimes slipped into the Kansai dialect of his childhood in his hometown away from Tokyo, Sumaru City. Much as he loathed to admit it, that was all he knew of Akira.

And Yusuke said he loves him. He knew more about _Joker_ than he did Akira.

Perhaps he didn't deserve Akira, after all.

Akira came back with Yusuke’s usual bouquet of flowers, and another small bouquet for him. Yusuke blinked at the bouquet, confused, and Akira scratched the back of his neck.

“The other flowers are from me.” He said sheepishly.

Yusuke deflated, and he nodded. “Thank you, Akira-san.”

Akira opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated, and gave him a small wave. “See you again, Yusuke-san.”

“Until next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 15 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Crow’s smile was sardonic, but he took Joker’s hand to kiss it before turning away. “Very well. I shall oversee how things turn out myself. I don't want you hurting yourself.”
> 
> Joker snorted. “Samael set you on keeping an eye on his goods?”
> 
> Crow looked back at him with an even stare. 
> 
> “This and that.” He replied, before turning to leave. 
> 
> “Crow—” Joker began, and the young man stopped, but didn't face him. 
> 
> “Joker, Fox will just use you. He's not as nice as he seems.” He said. “Mark my words, but remember my shoulder is always open for you to cry on.”
> 
> “If he'll make me cry, it'll be out of joy.”
> 
> Crow’s smirk was hidden from view. 
> 
> “We'll see.”


	15. conspirer avec les voleurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (conspiring with thieves)
> 
> “Let us move on to more pertinent news—regarding your lover boy—”
> 
> “He's… not my lover, Arsene.” Akira sighed, leaning against him, and the man cocked his head. 
> 
> “You love him, do you not? With a face like yours, only a fool wouldn't want you.”
> 
> “Yusuke’s… special.” Akira frowned up at him. “And he saw us kissing.”
> 
> “Oh, did he.” Arsene wasn't smiling. “Apologies. I truly had not meant to cause your relationship harm.”
> 
> “No, there wasn't even a relationship.” Akira sighed. “Ugh, just… tell me what's up with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still depressed lol what's new 
> 
> anyway i don't have anything to talk about, so here's the chapter.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

“When will you stop waiting for him?”

Crow leant against the back wall, watching Joker put his clothes on. Tonight had him in a blood red cheongsam with golden embroidery, and on the table was a golden peony hair clip that matched the design on his dress.

“Waiting for who?” Joker echoed, faking to struggle pulling up the back zipper of the dress, but Crow went up to him to help anyway. He pulled off his mask to kiss Joker's nape tenderly, barely the brush of lips against his soft skin.

“Fox.” He replied, and Joker snorted softly.

“Where'd you get that?”

“I'm a detective, dear Joker.” He said. “You're pining for Fox. Waiting for him to come back to The Metaverse again for you.”

Joker’s lips curled up into the smile of a cat’s.

“What if I am?”

“Don't.” Crow said, taking Joker’s hand with his own, while the other one stroked slowly down the side of Joker’s body, his fingers dipping under the silk of the cheongsam as he reached the thigh-high slit. “He'll just use you to scratch an itch. And then he'll throw you away. Just like that.”

“I know him, _Crow._ ” Joker almost spat, voice brittle over his anger. “He wouldn't hurt me. “

“I just don't want you to be hurt.” Crow said quietly, “You know I'm the only one who can be good to you.”

Joker finally pulled away from him, letting go of his hand to whirl around and glower at him. “You don't know Fox like I do.”

“All men are pigs.” Crow said simply, putting his mask back on.

“That includes you and me, you realise.”

“True.” Crow’s smile was sardonic, but he took Joker’s hand to kiss it before turning away. “Very well. I shall oversee how things turn out myself. I don't want you hurting yourself.”

Joker snorted. “Samael set you on keeping an eye on his goods?”

Crow looked back at him with an even stare.

“This and that.” He replied, before turning to leave.

“Crow—” Joker began, and the young man stopped, but didn't face him.

“Joker, Fox will just use you. He's not as nice as he seems.” He said. “Mark my words, but remember my shoulder is always open for you to cry on.”

“If he'll make me cry, it'll be out of joy.”

Crow’s smirk was hidden from view.

“We'll see.”

* * *

“Shido is in tonight.”

Joker stopped in the middle of putting his lipstick on to turn and look at Panther, worriedly peering out of the door of their dressing room.

“Panther?” He asked her, and she shook her head, sighing as she shut the door and made her way back to his side, getting back to fixing her blonde hair. “ _Samael’s_ in tonight?”

“Yeah.” She replied with a heavy sigh, before looking at him. “Corners.” She said, pointing to the corners of her lips, and Joker set to filling out the spot he missed with his blood-red lipstick. Panther looked around suspiciously in their room—despite the fact it was only the two of them there—and removed her and Joker’s mask. “Akira, you look _terrible._ ” She said worriedly, and Akira laughed dryly.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ann.” He said warmly, but she shook her head, cupping his cheek in her hand.

“You have dark circles under your eyes. I know Shido is working you dry, and I'm worried about your health.” Ann said softly. “And he's _back._ ”

“Well,” Akira patted her hand. “Satanael is coming.”

Her eyes widened, her pretty lips rounding to a small ‘o’. “He rarely comes around. How do you know—”

“Yo, Panther, Joker,” Skull peered into their room, and he jolted when he saw their masks off. He hurried inside and shut the door behind him. “Ann, Akira! Why’d you take your masks off?” He hissed.

“Look at him, Ryuji!” She hissed, “He's practically a zombie!”

Akira laughed at that, leaning on her affectionately.

“I saw Shido’s mug lurking in the casino tonight too! There's got to be some way we can afford him some sleep—”

“Sorry,” Ryuji sighed, “I came here to tell him he's booked for the night already.”

Ann’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“Satanael’s here tonight.” Ryuji sighed. “Shido must have gotten a huge favour from him, because he's letting him have Akira for the whole of tonight right off the bat.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Mishima’s freakin’ out about it, since now he's gotta deal with tellin’ uh… some rich dude from the TV industry that Joker’s unavailable tonight.”

“Oh, no.” Ann bit her lip. “Poor Mishima.”

“Eh, he'll be okay.” Ryuji shrugged. “He's got Iwai-san with him.”

“Good.” Akira nodded. “I'll deal with Satanael myself, don't worry about me.”

Ann looked at him witheringly as he gently picked up the Queen’s Necklace from a box on the vanity in front of him. “Ann, can you help me?”

“Y-yeah.” She nodded, locking the necklace, and she looked at it with Akira through his reflection in the mirror. “It's beautiful.” She said, “Where’d it come from?”

Akira smiled knowingly at her through the mirror.

“It's an heirloom of a family of thieves.” He said, and her eyes widened. “This used to belong to Queen Marie Antoinette, then passed along several nobles, until the family of Viscount Lupin in the late 1800s.”

Even Ryuji looked impressed. “Didn't know you knew all that.”

Akira simply smiled. “The many things you learn from a gentleman like Satanael.” He said, and patted Ann’s hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, we've got a show to do, and your garterbelt isn't on yet.”

“Ah, crap!” Ann swore, “Ryuji, help me!”

Her boyfriend rolled his eyes, and waved his hand dismissively at Akira, who was smirking at him cattily. “Ah, shut up. C’mon, Ann, let's get this over with.”

As the two went about their business, Akira got up and headed to the door, putting his mask back on. “I'll go on ahead. I'll be dancing the first half anyway.”

“Yep,” Ann said, giving him a small wave. “Knock it out of the park, Joker!”

* * *

“Mmph—nn, Ars—”

Satanael was by no means an inconsiderate lover, but with Samael right outside the door, peering in while it was still open, he had to shut Joker up somehow. He pressed Joker back against the wall, right next to the _Incarceration,_ and kissed him deeply, stealing all the air he had in his lungs in a ferocious kiss.

Also, it pissed Samael off when he did that, so everything was a nice win for him.

“I hope everything is to your liking, Satanael.” The bald man said, his arms crossed. “The Van Gogh you sent was stunning, and it will no doubt cost a fortune, again.”

He stuck two fingers into Joker’s mouth as he pulled away, chuckling.

“I am pleased with the service, as always.” He said, looking over his shoulder at the man while the prostitute sucked on his fingers. “It is a pleasure doing business with you, Samael.”

“Likewise.” The man bowed his head. “Enjoy your evening.”

The door closed behind them, and Satanael frowned, yanking off his golden horned mask as he locked the door. Joker coughed, choking on his spit as his fingers left his mouth suddenly. The young man glowered at Arsene as he checked the door for bugs, and when he deemed there were none, he turned to see him pull his mask off as well.

“You couldn't have done that more gently.” Akira deadpanned, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, and the Frenchman gave him a lopsided grin.

“Apologies. You know how irritated he gets when I do that.”

“You're gonna get me into so much trouble, asshole.” Akira frowned, but the man simply laughed at him. “C’mon. Let's talk.”

He jerked his head towards the bed, and the two of them sat down on it.

“Oh, before anything else, how is Morgana?” Arsene asked, and as if on cue, the little boy peeked out of the closet, wide-eyed. “Ah, speak of the little devil!”

“Arsene!” Morgana squealed, running towards him, and much to Akira's chagrin, the boy tackled the man in a bear hug. “You're here! When did you get here?”

“Just this morning.” The man chuckled, ruffling Morgana’s hair. “I stopped by Leblanc to look for you and you weren't there!”

“Oh, I was buying groceries this afternoon after school.” The boy pouted. “Man, if only I knew—”

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Akira interrupted, and the two snickered conspiratorially. “Let's do what you came here for.”

“I am flattered, but not in front of the child, Akira!” The thief grinned, earning him a smack to the side from the younger man. He laughed, warm and friendly, and kissed Akira gently.

“Ew!” Morgana protested, but Arsene simply ruffled his hair again, dissolving his protest into bright, delighted giggles.

“Alright,” Arsene’s smile slipped into a serious frown. “Firstly—progress on The Metaverse. There are so far seven confirmed accounts receiving money from abroad, and just as I suspected, the marked money I paid for a _very fake_ copy of the _Sayuri_ did end up in China. By the by, I _am_ still bitter that you made me buy that counterfeit painting. Even if the forgery was very much so precise.” Akira grinned at him sheepishly, and then huffed fondly. Arsene took his phone out of his pocket. “Shido covers his tracks well. The accounts are not linked to him directly, rather, by other allies that have agreed to shoulder the laundering in an account under their name. Access to it, however, is all his.”

“I'll have Futaba look into it.” Akira replied.

“Fret not.” Arsene chuckled, “She already did. I have a list of names, though some are rather familiar.”

He turned the phone for Akira to look at, and the young man frowned. “Oh, it's the transportation secretary.”

“Oh, him.” Arsene sighed. “He transferred government funds to his account, and then his Metaverse account.”

“I know.” Akira dryly replied. “I was the incentive.”

“Lucky bastard,” the Frenchman tutted, and Akira eyed him witheringly. “I am simply joking,” he grinned. “There are UN officials as well, some scheduled for availing Panther, though I assume you have slept with some of them as well?”

“Didn't have time to check,” Akira sighed. “Even with me protesting for reals they kept going, so…”

Arsene withered, and hugged him one-armed. Morgana pouted too, and he hugged his brother. Akira gave them both a warm smile, and shook his head.

“Moving on?”

“I do believe with some prodding I'll have dirt on this… Suguru Kamoshida man from a friend in Italy.” Arsene reported. “It seems his… _exploits_ began shortly after the Olympics four years ago.”

“Gross.” Akira scowled.

“Indeed. If I am not mistaken, Ann is 20 this year, yes?”

“Yeah!” Morgana chimed in. “She said I could blow out her cake candles for her!”

Arsene chuckled fondly and ruffled his hair.

“Four years… sixteen.”

“I want to kill him for doing that to Ann.” Akira’s hand balled into a fist. “Shiho… Ryuji…”

“Akira, beautiful, calm yourself.” Arsene’s voice was firm, but not cruel. He cupped Akira's face in his hand, and the prostitute sighed. “Let us move on to more pertinent news—regarding your lover boy—”

“He's… not my lover, Arsene.” Akira sighed, leaning against him, and the man cocked his head.

“You love him, do you not? With a face like yours, only a fool wouldn't want you.”

“Yusuke’s… special.” Akira frowned up at him. “And he saw us kissing.”

“Oh, did he.” Arsene wasn't smiling. “Apologies. I truly had not meant to cause your relationship harm.”

“No, there wasn't even a relationship.” Akira sighed. “Ugh, just… tell me what's up with him.”

Arsene gave him a concerned look for a moment, before conceding. “Yusuke Kitagawa is Madarame's adoptee, and now only remaining student. Apparently, they previously lived in a rundown atelier, alongside many other children, all of which were Madarame’s students.” He looked down at his phone, and scrolled through it for a moment. “I confirmed it myself, upon comparing my _fake_ _Sayuri_ with the _Incarceration_ by your door—young Kitagawa’s art is a different class of its own.”

“And this exhibit the coming week?”

“No doubt all are his, signed under his teacher’s name, except one.”

Akira’s expression hardened in anger, and the thief chuckled. “You will love the exception.”

The young man cocked his head at him, but Arsene simply shook his head. “I will take you there, on the last day of the exhibit. I will personally purchase that one exception, and that is yours.”

Akira blushed. Another one of Yusuke’s works, for him to own…

“And you?”

“I will steal, as usual.” Arsene’s smile was the curve of a beloved dagger, sharper than its polished edges. “I do believe old man Madarame is overdue in his immunity from my sticky fingers.”

“Heh, thanks.” Akira deflated, accepting the hug Morgana offered him. “Madarame is a High Limit player in The Metaverse.”

“Oh?” Arsene cocked his head at him.

“Azazel.” Akira nodded. “I went along with Mune-san once to take him back home after he got really drunk and fell asleep on me. I didn’t really mean to see his face, but his mask fell off and I recognised him, and I wanted to see Yusuke.”

“Ah, so you knew.”

“From the start.” Akira replied. “When Fox said he was Azazel’s student, I _knew_ it was him. I’d been so happy to see him in The Metaverse, but then I got… disappointed. I thought he was just like them.”

“Oh, but he wasn’t, right?” Morgana piped up, “You didn’t play with him, and oh! He drew a pretty picture of Akira in my old sketchbook!”

“Did he?” Arsene grinned, “May I see?”

Morgana squirmed out of Akira’s arms to rummage around Akira’s vanity—picking things up to check if his sketchbook was there, before moving onto the drawers and rifling through there.

“Four years…” Arsene mused, and Akira cocked his head at him, Morgana’s noisy rummaging through his and Akira’s items fading into background noise as the thief sighed, shaking his head. “You were sixteen too, weren’t you? When he…” he made a vague gesture with his hand. “Broke you in.”

Akira deflated. “Yeah.”

He remembered that day, dragged into the hell that was The Metaverse at 16, wrapped in a bride’s gown all the way from the veil to the white garterbelt, stockings and panties. Beside him stood a dead-eyed brunet—Akechi, just a year older than he was, dressed similarly.

Akira was there standing awkwardly in white kitten heels, in the middle of hungry gazes boring into his skin, as the first payment of a debt made in the blood of his parents, smeared across the walls of their home in Sumaru City, miles away from Tokyo. If he shut his eyes then, he still heard their voices, defiant until the end. Discordant to it were Morgana’s wails of fear, and his own roaring heartbeat in his ears as the gunshots kept going, and going, and _going,_ until the fire burned it all down, and the rain washed the blood away. When he opened his eyes then, he looked into Masayoshi Shido’s hungry gaze on him, and his skin crawled.

Beside him, Goro Akechi stood there with his head held high, but his eyes distant and glassy. Later on, bruised and bloody, drugged to high hell and back and covered in sticky, drying semen, he dragged himself over to Akira and made sure he was alright.

Him, a complete stranger. Akira—a boy at 16, beaten, burned, bruised and practically _raped_ —at 16.

Akechi looked like he had been there _longer,_ and Akira clung onto him as Akechi told him why he was there.

It was a lesson for him, and Akira accepted, finally, the hell he sold his soul to the moment Akechi took his first proper kiss.

“Apologies.” Arsene’s voice was like a light turning on in the dark, and Akira jumped when the Frenchman thumbed away a tear that rolled down his face. “I brought back terrible memories.”

“No, it’s fine.” Akira shook his head, pulling away from Arsene’s hand. “Remembering that reminds me Akechi can still be saved, just like all of us.”

Arsene’s expression fell. “You and your endless kindness and optimism.” He sighed, but he kissed Akira nonetheless.

“Ew! You’ve both got cooties now!” Morgana exclaimed, and the two flew apart, Arsene laughing out loud while Akira spluttered. His little brother pouted resolutely at them, but he held his sketchbook in his hand triumphantly, like a lost treasure finally found. “Here’s my sketchbook. You should look, Arsene! Yusuke draws super good!”

Arsene took the sketchbook from him, humming softly as he looked through it from the back. He raised an eyebrow at the sketches, and Akira blushed slightly. He ducked his head, laughing sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, they look kinda sexy, I was still trying to seduce him—”

“They're lovely.” Arsene said softly, turning the sketchbook around to let Akira see the sketches of him, fast asleep and curled around a pillow. His eyes widened, and he took the sketchbook from him, flipping through Yusuke’s pencil sketches, only to find sketches of him comfortably curled up in bed, asleep.

Safe.

“Oh, he…” Akira deflated, smiling fondly. “Oh, Yusuke.”

“Ah, how jealous of him I am.” Arsene said softly, kissing Akira’s forehead. “Only he can make that smile bloom on your face.”

The flush on his cheeks was beautiful. “Well, um… about saving him.”

“Ah, yes.”

“We'll do it the old fashioned way, why won't we?” Akira smiled. “We’ve done it before, we can do it again.”

“Allow me time to gather more evidence.” Arsene nodded. “We have yet to have actual footage of the old bastard in the casino, doing what people do best.” He straightened up and nodded. “And then, a calling card.”

“Yeah.” Akira nodded. “Let's steal his rotten desires.”

“How I've waited for you to say that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 16 preview!**
> 
> “Bonjour,” he said, “My name is Arsene Lupin the Fourth. I am a connoisseur of the fine arts, but I do apologise and I am sincerely ashamed to admit I had only discovered your stunning work recently.”
> 
> Yusuke dazedly took Arsene’s hand to shake, and much to his surprise, the man lifted his hand to kiss it. His cheeks turned red, and Arsene laughed softly.
> 
> “Ah, what a mistake I've made,” he said, “The signs say do not touch the masterpieces, and yet here I am, holding your hand.”
> 
> “B-beg pardon?” Yusuke stammered, and his head spun. Well, _this_ was a turn of events. Arsene shook his head fondly, and sighed.
> 
> “You are as lovely as the works you create—if not, lovelier.” He said. “If my heart was not already stolen by a phenomenal beauty, I would have given it to you. Unless you have given yours away already?”
> 
> “I-I,” Yusuke shook his head. He didn't know why he was having this conversation with this strange, oddly familiar, and very _forward_ man. “I have.” He didn't know why he answered truthfully, either.
> 
> “Ah, a shame.” Arsene let go of his hand, but his smile was knowing. “I became an admirer when I saw the first public artwork honestly credited to you.”


	16. une visite de galerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (a gallery visit)
> 
> “Gorgeous painting.” A deep voice said beside him, and he jumped, whirling around to look at a tall man in a three piece suit standing next to him. 
> 
> “O-oh,” Yusuke tripped over himself trying to recover, and the man chuckled kindly as he straightened himself up. “Yes, um, hello. Welcome to Ichiryusai Madarame’s exhibit.”
> 
> The man hummed thoughtfully, and peered at the _Wildcard_ in front of them. “I do believe I entered young Yusuke Kitagawa’s exhibit, not Madarame's?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi if you're exhausted of this bullshit and are one of the people looking for p2 content [here's a fluffy-ish suou bros fluff fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11810631) i posted at the same time. 
> 
> still depressed lol but this time i'm blasting nicki minaj because i love her very much.
> 
> unrelated to nicki minaj hi i love arsene very much he's here again so this chapter automatically defaults to a personal favourite (cackles gently) hi please love arsene as much as i do
> 
> Sena Hifune is an OC of mine who's 24/7 thirsty. would probably be also of the emperor arcana if a confidant. i love him, what a gross baby boy.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

Yusuke hadn't noticed what exactly the flowers Akira got him were until he got home, setting them down next to the lilies on the coffee table.

He blinked at a purple hyacinth, two yellow daffodils, and a single red rose in full bloom. It wasn't the most elegant bouquet Akira had ever made—it was only four flowers, but the meaning was more important.

He jolted. “No, there's no way—” he began, but he cut himself off to pull his phone out of his pocket. He hurried to confirm on the internet what they meant, and his jaw dropped.

_I'm sorry, I wish I could be with you. I love you._

“It can't be…” he breathed, his hands shaking as he held the flowers. “Akira, you…”

Did Akira just confess to him using flowers? The young man was a florist, and definitely, he knew the language of flowers more than the average person.

A severe flush crossed his cheeks. Akira liked him.

No, Akira liked him _back._

Yusuke held his burning cheeks, his mind spinning. There it was—the hope that Akira liked him back, real and in the flesh, and he had never felt giddier. He felt like he was soaring, and his stomach was doing triumphant somersaults.

Akira liked him back! Akira loved him! He could scream it to all the world, and it would not be enough. He felt the urge to tell everyone he knew—Natsuhiko, Madarame, Ohya, Seiji, Iwai, Joker—

He paused there, and he deflated.

Joker. He had to tell Joker, so he would stop chasing after him. It hurt, knowing he was just hurting Joker the more days he wasn't there at The Metaverse, but he knew that was amplified by Joker’s apparent longing for him. Maybe, with a name, Joker’s feelings can finally be put to rest.

The doorbell rang, and Yusuke opened it to see—of all people—Ohya standing outside, looking disgruntled.

“O-Ohya-san.”

“Hey,” she greeted, “I know the old man’s not home.”

Yusuke winced. “You are correct.”

“Yeah, but I'll make this quick. Someone needs to meet with you at this address.” She handed him a card with an address written on it, and Yusuke cocked an eyebrow at her. “Don't read it out loud, okay? She wants to see you this Sunday lunchtime.”

“I have to help my teacher with the exhibition.” Yusuke said, but she shook her head.

“Then play hooky.” Ohya deadpanned. “This is about The Metaverse.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Look, just do it.” Ohya sighed. “I'm on the run right now, Iwai tipped me off that someone's trying to pin us down right now and whoever that is, they're some person with a rank in the police.” Yusuke’s eyes widened. “So be careful, and stay alert.” She poked him in the chest. “Oh, and thanks for the intel you got, by the way. If you meet the lady at that address, you'll get a copy of what you recorded that night.”

“Wh-whatever for?” Yusuke stammered, and Ohya shrugged.

“You wanted to go into The Metaverse to learn the truth about your teacher, right?” She said, “There's your truth. It's up to you what you wanna do with it.”

Yusuke, truthfully, didn't know. He never thought he would get this far—and in too deep.

“Just—go, okay?” Ohya said with some trepidation and hesitance. “She could really use your help.”

“I-I understand.”

She gave him a tired grin, and patted his shoulder before hurrying off into the darkness. He watched her get into a car, and it sped away.

He shook his head, and headed back inside, reading the card with a frown on his face.

_HARU OKUMURA_

_Café Leblanc, Yongen-Jaya backstreets._

Leblanc. The name sounded vaguely familiar, heard from a classmate in passing, and he remembered seeing the Yongen-Jaya station on the subway railroad map, beyond Shibuya station.

He could get there, theoretically. Though, he needed to see Joker again, first.

* * *

“Café Leblanc? That little backstreet cafe in Yongen-Jaya?”

Yusuke nodded, and his classmate frowned thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his neck as they walked together from one classroom to another. “Hmm, been there a few times. Coffee’s nice. Barista’s cute. Uh, sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Yusuke cocked his head, and the young man snickered.

“Oh, sometimes it's the owner’s part timer watching the cafe for him. It takes some serious luck catching him on a shift, but when you do,” he whistled. “Cutie.”

“Hifune-senpai.” Yusuke replied flatly, and the man laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. So you take the train from Shibuya station to Yongen-Jaya, and then it's a bit of a walk from there. There's a way from the main road, but it takes a little longer, so I usually use the alleyways.” Hifune nodded. “If you take a left turn right outside the station, you'll end up in super tight alleyways, but it's just straightforward to the cafe. You'll see a food stand that's open just at night on the right, and a bathhouse and a laundromat on the left. Right across that is the cafe. You won't miss it.”

“I see.” Yusuke frowned, nodding.

“Whaddaya need to go there for, anyway? You don't seem like the cafe kinda guy.”

“I'm supposed to be meeting someone there.”

Hifune’s grin widened. “Whoa, you got a _date?_ ”

“Not the romantic sort.” Yusuke shook his head. “This is pure business.”

Hifune glanced down at the card he was looking at and hummed. “Okumura, huh? Sounds familiar.”

“Please do not intrude in my business.” Yusuke sighed exasperatedly, and his upperclassman laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, fine. So, about the cutie in the cafe—”

“ _Senpai._ ”

“His name’s Akira Kurusu, and he's around your age, I think.”

At that, Yusuke froze, and he gaped at Hifune.

“Akira… Kurusu?” He echoed, and Hifune nodded.

“Yeah, Kurusu. He's like, super cute with the fluffy hair and the glasses. Kinda sweet and shy too.” Hifune lit up. “Hey, if I went with you on your coffee date can you introduce us? I bet he'll pay attention to you since you're so pretty, and all I have is my stellar manners and charm.” He huffed, nodding with a self-confident smirk on his face, and Yusuke deflated.

“Senpai, he—” likes me, he was going to say, but he held himself back. “Please court him on your own merit.”

“Boo, you'd never know the value of a wingman.” Hifune pouted. “So, why'd you freak out over his name? Someone you know?”

“Oh, I…” Yusuke blushed, and Hifune lit up.

“Holy shit, Kitagawa! You _know_ him!”

“W-well, _know_ is a very strange term to use, um—”

“Damn! Where else did you know him?”

“H-he, um—”

“Hey! Hifune!” Someone suddenly called, and the two young men whirled around to see someone waving at them. “Stay back, we’ve got a meeting!”

“Shit, I gotta go.” Hifune sighed, patting Yusuke's arm. “We're not finished yet, Kitagawa.” He grinned at Yusuke, who only sighed exasperatedly. He ran away, and Yusuke was glad that ordeal was over.

Still, he didn't know Akira had a _third_ job. With those jobs he juggled, he must have had some great trouble to deal with.

Thinking back to the bouquet he gave him, Yusuke clutched his chest, frowning deeply.

It made him want to _save_ him. From whatever it was that made Akira juggle three part time jobs, and never enter college.

He laughed bitterly. It was like Joker all over again,  and he didn't know if Akira was perfectly fine on his own. Like Joker, maybe he didn't need saving. Maybe he was fine all on his own, juggling three jobs to get by.

Yusuke knew better than to make assumptions, but the thought was there. A chat with Akira should do the trick.

Next time, he thought. When he buys more flowers, he'll buy Akira a bouquet as well.

* * *

Thursday was spent helping Madarame set up the exhibit to open Friday, and the day passed much faster than Yusuke thought it would. When classes ended, he hurried to Ueno for the exhibit, which was already in full swing when he arrived. The floor director, a woman named Ishida, welcomed him inside with an exhausted smile, looping a staff ID around his neck. Yusuke gave her a thankful bow and hurried into the exhibit floor to see that the venue had a considerably large amount of people in it. More than usual, he noted with some surprise, and he hurried to the middle of the floor, spying his teacher explaining his artwork in a casual stroll through the exhibit. Behind him, the media followed, some highly renowned art critics and celebrities at his heels as he spoke, and Yusuke nodded to himself. He could handle himself without him.

He found himself wandering over to where the _Wildcard_ was, looking up at his own version of Joker’s visage, and he sighed deeply. Tomorrow—or perhaps tonight—he and Madarame would return to The Metaverse, and Yusuke had to tell Joker whatever they had was over.

If there was anything in the first place. Either way, even if Yusuke finally helped Joker get over him, he would still try to help him, and perhaps this Haru Okumura would be able to help them, too.

“Gorgeous painting.” A deep voice said beside him, and he jumped, whirling around to look at a tall man in a three piece suit standing next to him.

“O-oh,” Yusuke tripped over himself trying to recover, and the man chuckled kindly as he straightened himself up. “Yes, um, hello. Welcome to Ichiryusai Madarame’s exhibit.”

The man hummed thoughtfully, and peered at the _Wildcard_ in front of them. “I do believe I entered young Yusuke Kitagawa’s exhibit, not Madarame's?” He had a knowing smile on his face, and Yusuke felt something oddly familiar about him. Still, his comment had his hairs on his skin standing in horror, and Yusuke was quick to shake his head.

“Apologies, I only painted this—”

“Entire exhibit, yes?” The man cut him off, and Yusuke gaped at him. His smirk widened, and he offered him his hand. “ _Bonjour_ ,” he said, “My name is Arsene Lupin the Fourth. I am a connoisseur of the fine arts, but I do apologise and I am sincerely ashamed to admit I had only discovered your stunning work recently.”

Yusuke dazedly took Arsene’s hand to shake, and much to his surprise, the man lifted his hand to kiss it. His cheeks turned red, and Arsene laughed softly.

“Ah, what a mistake I've made,” he said, “The signs say do not touch the masterpieces, and yet here I am, holding your hand.”

“B-beg pardon?” Yusuke stammered, and his head spun. Well, _this_ was a turn of events. Arsene shook his head fondly, and sighed.

“You are as lovely as the works you create—if not, lovelier.” He said. “If my heart was not already stolen by a phenomenal beauty, I would have given it to you. Unless you have given yours away already?”

“I-I,” Yusuke shook his head. He didn't know why he was having this conversation with this strange, oddly familiar, and very _forward_ man. “I have.” He didn't know why he answered truthfully, either.  

“Ah, a shame.” Arsene let go of his hand, but his smile was knowing. “I became an admirer when I saw the first public artwork honestly credited to you.”

“Honestly cred—”

“The _Incarceration._ ” He continued over Yusuke's indignation. “Stunning work. A white fox swathed in red and scattered cherry blossom petals trapped in a cage, depicted in lovely traditional Japanese style. The simulation of bars over the colours of Madarame’s maiden artwork, the _Sayuri_. I had always wondered why would anyone feel so trapped by such a gentle, gorgeous painting, and a friend had realised the story behind it.”

“O-oh?”

Arsene nodded. “An unconscious cry for help, from a young man suffering under the man he once called father.”

Yusuke gaped at the strange man. There was no way he could have figured all that out by just looking at the _Incarceration._ Yusuke had kept it vague on purpose, that not even Madarame could see what he was intending with it, and yet here, this man saw through it all.

“Oh, do not misunderstand.” Arsene waved his gloved hand at Yusuke. “It wasn't I who figured this out.”

“W-who was it, then?”

“I had been in Barcelona when the _Incarceration_ was exhibited, you know.” Arsene said. “Back then I had only seen a cellphone photograph of it, until recently when I came to Japan on a business trip.”

Yusuke's blood ran cold. “Where… did you see it?”

“With a friend.” Arsene replied, before gesturing at the _Wildcard._ Yusuke’s eyes widened. “He is beautiful, isn't he? The smooth skin, the long legs—plump lips you could kiss for hours and never tire of—”

“W-wait,” Yusuke cut him off. “You… you know Joker?”

“But of course.” Arsene bowed at him. “I am Satanael.” he said in a hushed tone that only Yusuke could hear. “It is a pleasure to finally meet the emperor who stole Joker’s heart, Fox.”

Fear froze Yusuke in his place. How could this man have figured out his identity that easily? There was no way he should have known—

“Fret not.” Arsene said, as if sensing Yusuke’s panic. “I will not speak a word of it, nor cause any harm to you.” He handed Yusuke a small paper, innocuous and folded neatly. “Joker sends his regards. He misses your presence in The Metaverse.”

Yusuke deflated. “Ah, about that… I…” he shook his head. “I will be returning to The Metaverse, either tonight or tomorrow, depending on my teacher’s intentions.” He declared, and Arsene nodded.

“I will be sure he receives your word.”

Yusuke looked down at his feet. “Much thanks.”

“Oh, and by the by—” the Frenchman said, “I do wish to purchase the _Wildcard_ for Joker.”

Yusuke blushed. “Whatever for?”

“He loves you as much as I love it.” He said, and Yusuke’s blush deepened. “I have no doubts he will enjoy the _Wildcard_ as much as he loves the _Incarceration._ ”

“I-I see.”

Arsene gave him a smile, and tucked a stray lock of Yusuke’s hair behind his ear.

“Forgive me for being unable to keep my hands off the masterpieces.” He said, and the young man grew even more flustered. “But I have wanted to do that since I met you.”

He pulled away from Yusuke. “I shall take my leave now, young Kitagawa. I look forward to seeing you again, this time in The Metaverse.”

“Y-yes.” Yusuke replied shakily, and watched Arsene stride away. He deflated slightly, sighing as he watched him leave, and he looked down at the paper Arsene gave him. He unfolded it carefully, standing so that only the painting was behind him, and he read the letter.

_Fox,_

_I've missed you. I hope you're doing okay, and I hope your winnings that night treated you better than I did. Arsene is a friend and customer of mine, and he'll be an ally of yours the night you come by._

_You remember your promise to come back, right?_

_I heard about you and your art. Your teacher. The atelier, his other students. I want to save you._

_Please, come see me again. I'm sorry, I want to kiss you again._

There was no signed name, but there was a kiss mark in the colour of Joker’s burning red lipstick as a signature. Yusuke sighed, and glanced back at the _Wildcard_ on the wall as he folded the letter, hiding it in his pocket.

“Joker…” he murmured. “I swear, I will do all I can to help you.”

Joker wanted to save him.

“Ah, Yusuke.” Madarame’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he jumped, whirling around to bow at his teacher. “There you are.”

“S-sensei. Apologies, there was a guest who asked me about the _Wildcard_.”

“No worries.” Madarame shook his head. “Come closer, my boy.”

Yusuke leant closer to him as he was told.

“Tonight, we return to the Metaverse.” Madarame murmured to him, and the young man’s eyes widened. “I have received word that tonight's High Limit game is _intense_ , and I am not one to back down from a challenge.”

“Sensei, the game—”

“ _You_ will win it for me.” Madarame said, patting his shoulder heavily. “You have Joker’s favour. The staff are his servants. Your victory is certain.”

Yusuke swallowed nervously. “Understood.”

“Good boy.” Madarame nodded. “Prepare yourself. Tonight, we dine in heaven.”

Tonight, they gambled in hell, and kissed champagne off the lips of smiling demons.

Well, he wanted to save Joker, too. The demons were the least of his worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 17 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> The man offered his hand for Yusuke to shake. “Greetings. I am Satanael. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
> 
> “Likewise.” Yusuke replied carefully. “I am Fox. I will be representing my teacher Azazel in tonight’s game.”
> 
> “Ah, Azazel.” Arsene smiled cattily at Madarame, “With your gaudy kimono and all that gold on you, I hardly noticed you there beside the stunning grace of your young Fox.”
> 
> The older man practically snarled at him. “Satanael.” He flatly replied, and Yusuke heard him mutter under his breath, “Damned cradle robber.”
> 
> Nerves crawled over Yusuke’s chest, squeezing tight. Just who was this Arsene Lupin?
> 
> Arsene smiled at Yusuke again, charming and sweet this time, and when Yusuke took his hand to shake, he lifted it to press a kiss to his dorsum. “Fox, I look forward to tonight’s game, with you by my side. I think I will be more inspired tonight to overperform, if only to impress you.”
> 
> “Ah, the sweet-talking Satanael strikes again.” Leviathan drawled from Arsene's other side. “Fox, dear boy, don't be taken in by this man’s lip service.”
> 
> “Lip service?” Arsene laughed, warm and friendly, and he turned to take Leviathan’s hand to kiss it as well. “Ah, I've missed you, Leviathan. Beautiful and graceful as always.”
> 
> “Hmph.” Leviathan huffed, and rolled her eyes. “Lip. Service.” She repeated, and Arsene shook his head. 
> 
> “Ah, a hard nut to crack, this one.” Arsene winked at Yusuke, chuckling. “I'm glad you're a sweet, innocent one, Fox. Much lovelier to chat with.”


	17. le jeu de la fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the game of fortune)
> 
> “The Metaverse is such a strange world.”
> 
> “The Metaverse is heaven and hell and heaven, a time machine running backwards, a time machine that stops time completely.”
> 
> “It brought me a lover I never wanted, and the father I thought I had lost.”
> 
> “But it is a den of sin and vice.” He laughed dryly. “Tell me, mother—does that make me a vicious, horrible man as well?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mention of rape somewhere near the end of the chapter
> 
>  **edit:** shouldn't have done that. sorry for worrying people, promise I won't do it again. 
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

Yusuke looked at the suit in his closet, smiling exasperatedly.

“Back to The Metaverse again,” he said, holding it in front of himself in front of his mirror, sighing. He spied his kitsune mask hanging from the dresser behind him, and thought about Joker.

Was he doing alright? It seemed he had been looking for Yusuke ever since he left, and the realisation after talking to Arsene felt like a heavy iron weight in his gut. He deflated, and got to unbuttoning the suit.

“Ah, Yusuke. Put that back; I have something to show you.”

Yusuke jumped at the sound of Madarame’s voice behind him, but he nodded, hurriedly stuffing the suit back inside his closet before following his teacher out of his room. They walked through the house, the tatami mats creaking under their feet as they strode into the storage wing, and Yusuke’s eyes widened when Madarame stopped at a sliding door with off-white paper walls.

“My boy, if you please?”

“O-of course, sensei.” Yusuke bowed his head, and tried to open the door. It got stuck for a moment, and Yusuke gritted his teeth, before forcing it open the rest of the way.

The room was musty, dark and covered with a fine layer of dust, and behind him, Madarame turned the light on to let Yusuke see pieces of old furniture covered with a cloth. His eyes widened in realisation—these were the old shelves and some of the armchairs from the old atelier. He approached one of the chairs, amazement in his eyes as he ran his hands over tattered upholstery, faded red as muted as the colours of his memories, and his eyes welled with tears.

He didn’t know Madarame kept them. Kept all these years of memories hidden away like this.

“Over here, Yusuke.” Madarame said, stepping over a few cloth-covered items, and approached a tall cabinet, styled in traditional Japanese style. Yusuke gaped at it as he came to stand next to his teacher, and the man opened it carefully to reveal a deep blue kimono covered in plastic. It looked brand-new, but Yusuke knew better.

He knew this kimono—he’d admired its simple, graceful beauty since he was a young child.

It was coloured a deep aquamarine with two layers of silk, white and blue. The patterns of a great sea were embroidered into the soft cloth by hand in silver thread, and every movement of those clothes was like the simulation of the flow and ebb of waves. The kimono was practically an antique, but it was carefully maintained by Madarame ever since his youth. As a child, Yusuke had been eyeing it in the storage ever since he discovered it in the atelier, and he had dreamed of the day he would be allowed to wear it.

“S-sensei…” He breathed, eyes welling with tears.

“I had this dry-cleaned this morning, actually.” The man grinned, rubbing his chin. “This is what you'll wear tonight.” He patted Yusuke’s arm. “Make Joker fall in love with you, boy—do not waste our efforts.”

He cupped his hands over his mouth, shaking with joy, and he nodded.

“O-of course, sensei. I-I will.”

The kimono was beautiful. It was his dream to wear it, and even if it was for The Metaverse, Yusuke wouldn't have traded the moment he walked around in it for anything in the world.

He reverently took the kimono out of the closet with shaking hands, and Madarame nodded.

“It would suit your kitsune mask very well.” He said. “Come, put on your layers first and come back to me so I can fix your obi.”

“Y-yes, sensei.” Yusuke stammered, and overcome with the warmth that spilled from his chest, he pulled the man into a hug.

Madarame's eyes widened, and he laughed. “Feeling sentimental, Yusuke?”

“Yes.” Yusuke replied, his quivering with the shimmering heat of his joy. “Thank you, sensei. Thank you, truly.”

“But of course.” Madarame nodded. “Come, we have to leave early for The Metaverse.”

He left Yusuke standing in the storage room, and Yusuke wiped at his eyes with the edges of his sleeves.

“Dear mother,” he murmured, smiling softly as his heart swelled with emotion, some spilling out of his eyes. “The Metaverse is such a strange world.”

He strode out of the storage room and shut the door behind him before making his way to his room to get dressed.

“The Metaverse is heaven and hell and heaven,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. “A time machine running backwards, a time machine that stops time completely.”

He slid his shirt off and looked at himself in the mirror with a sigh.

“It brought me a lover I never wanted,” he thought of Joker, beautiful as always and waiting and longing for him. “And the father I thought I had lost.”

He turned to look at the kimono, and unwrapped its plastic cover.

“But it is a den of sin and vice.” He laughed dryly. “Tell me, mother—does that make me a vicious, horrible man as well?”

* * *

“Ah, Azazel!” Leviathan greeted Yusuke and Madarame near the registration at the entrance lobby, just only having finished her own log-in. “A pleasure seeing you here tonight, it's been a while.”

The woman was in a sea green dress that night, backless save for crisscrossing lines of black lace that decorated her back, seemingly caging in her tattooed bulldog and its yellow roses. On her head was a wide-brimmed sunhat of the same colour, decorated with a black ribbon and pinned down with a sapphire brooch. Her gloves were black lace tonight, and Yusuke thought it suited her strong hands as she shook Madarame’s hand in both of hers. He kissed her hand before she let him go, and she chuckled softly.

“A little bird told me tonight’s game was one I should absolutely not miss, so here I am, my friend.” Madarame replied easily, while Yusuke handed their membership cards to an attendant who asked for them. “My boy Fox is here with me tonight, as well.”

“Lovely to see you here.” Leviathan’s smile was knowing, and Yusuke gave her a polite bow. “Still polite, as always. Oh, and matching with his teacher, as well!”

Yusuke smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“He reminds me of when I was younger,” Madarame agreed, “The kimono suited him better than it did me.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Yusuke replied, suddenly antsy at the thought of seeing Joker again. “And it is a pleasure to see you again, Leviathan-san.”

“Likewise.” Leviathan nodded, and only then did Yusuke realise that she was with Queen, who smiled at Yusuke as she handed him his and Madarame’s membership cards. “Ah, thank you.” She said to Queen, and Yusuke nodded at her as well. “Queen, when is the High Limit special?”

“Shortly,” Queen replied, “A short wait will suffice, so please make your way to the poker tables.” She gestured towards the tables, and Leviathan nodded.

“Wonderful. Azazel, Fox?” Leviathan looked at the two, and they followed after her. Yusuke jumped at a hand on his shoulder, and and he turned to see Queen holding onto him.

“Queen?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Mr. Fox, tonight, please fight for a night with Joker.” She said. “He's counting on you.”

Yusuke swallowed nervously, but he nodded. “I will try my best.”

“Don't _try_.” Queen said, and her eyes were fierce. “ _Do._ ”

* * *

Yusuke was escorted by Skull to an armchair around a large table, where Madarame was already seated on his own chair. The blond young man gave Yusuke a supportive grin and a heavy pat on his shoulder, before leaving to care for other duties. Yusuke nervously glanced at Queen from the corner of his eye, but his face was quickly turned by his teacher to pay attention to the table.

“The house is full tonight, boy. Look.” Madarame muttered, and Yusuke realised that the table was full, save for one seat right across Yusuke, and one right next to him to his right. Next to him leftwards at the end of the player-side of the poker table, Asmodeus was sprawled back on his armchair, browsing through his phone disinterestedly, his legs splayed wide open.

“Asmodeus,” Madarame whispered. “I heard he won big the other night— _both_ Panther and Joker.”

Yusuke’s skin crawled in disgust.

To his other side beyond the empty seat, Leviathan was talking in hushed tones with Lune, who was writing something down in a small notebook.

“Leviathan also won recently—oh, and she said the _Wildcard_ was lovely. She was considering buying it.”

Yusuke thought back to Arsene, and he frowned.

“I met someone who was willing to buy it too. A gentleman who wanted to buy it for a friend.”

Madarame patted his shoulder. “A bidding. Well, that will get us more money, regardless.” He gestured at Bael sitting next to Leviathan. The man was glowering around at the people at the table, and Yusuke was quick to avoid meeting his gaze. “Bael is here tonight, too. He hasn't won in a while, so there is without a doubt he will be aggressive tonight. Be careful.”

Yusuke nodded.

Madarame moved on to the man seated next to Bael. He was unfamiliar, dressed in a sharp black suit and a plain black mask.

“Mammon.” Madarame said. “Powerful, rich. Influential, though I have not ascertained his identity. He does not come to The Metaverse that often, but when he does, it is almost guaranteed he will win.”

Yusuke frowned. “Even in High Limit games?”

“No,” Madarame chuckled darkly. “So fight with all you have, my boy.”

“‘Scuse me,” Skull said, and the two turned to look at him. “Mind scooting over a little bit, Fox? New guest comin’ in.”

“Of course.” Yusuke nodded, getting up to pull his armchair closer to Madarame, who huffed and rolled his eyes, muttering about rude, overfamiliar employees.

“Thanks.” Skull grinned at Yusuke anyway, and stepped aside to let his guest approach the empty armchair next to him.

“Ah, thank you, Skull.” A familiar voice said, and Yusuke jumped when a tall man in a top hat and a deep black suit that resembled military regalia, complete with a red silk sash sat down next to him. He looked at Yusuke to let him see a golden horned mask on his face, and his lips curled up into a knowing smirk. “Well, hello. I do believe we have yet to meet?”

Lies, Yusuke thought.

The man offered his hand for Yusuke to shake. “Greetings. I am Satanael. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise.” Yusuke replied carefully. “I am Fox. I will be representing my teacher Azazel in tonight’s game.”

“Ah, Azazel.” Arsene smiled cattily at Madarame, “With your gaudy kimono and all that gold on you, I hardly noticed you there beside the stunning grace of your young Fox.”

The older man practically snarled at him. “Satanael.” He flatly replied, and Yusuke heard him mutter under his breath, “Damned cradle robber.”

Nerves crawled over Yusuke’s chest, squeezing tight. Just who was this Arsene Lupin?

Arsene smiled at Yusuke again, charming and sweet this time, and when Yusuke took his hand to shake, he lifted it to press a kiss to his dorsum. “Fox, I look forward to tonight’s game, with you by my side. I think I will be more inspired tonight to overperform, if only to impress you.”

“Ah, the sweet-talking Satanael strikes again.” Leviathan drawled from Arsene's other side. “Fox, dear boy, don't be taken in by this man’s lip service.”

“Lip service?” Arsene laughed, warm and friendly, and he turned to take Leviathan’s hand to kiss it as well. “Ah, I've missed you, Leviathan. Beautiful and graceful as always.”

“Hmph.” Leviathan huffed, and rolled her eyes. “Lip. Service.” She repeated, and Arsene shook his head.

“Ah, a hard nut to crack, this one.” Arsene winked at Yusuke, chuckling. “I'm glad you're a sweet, innocent one, Fox. Much lovelier to chat with.”

He yelped with a laugh when Leviathan pinched his side to silence him, but the three of them fell quiet when the crowd tittered around them. Asmodeus looked up from his phone, and grumbling, he got up. Bael did the same, and Leviathan frowned, reluctantly getting up onto her feet. Mammon stood up without much preamble, and Yusuke looked confusedly at Arsene.

“Up, Fox.” He said, getting up. “He's here.”

“Who is…?” Yusuke asked, but he did as he was told, helping Madarame to his feet in time to see a masked bald man in a suit approach the table. His eyes widened when he saw Crow walking behind the man, and the pieces fell into place.

“Samael.” Arsene muttered to him, but Yusuke already knew, somehow.

“On your seats, gentlemen.” Samael said, sitting down as Crow pushed his chair in for him, and the rest of the table followed. The man cast a glance around the people at the table, and his eyes came to a rest on Yusuke. “Oh, a newcomer?”

Yusuke bowed his head politely, though he could feel his pulse throbbing powerfully in his ears. His nerves screamed a nervous cacophony of fear, but he managed to keep his voice even as he spoke.

“Greetings. I am Fox, and I represent my master Azazel. I will be playing on his behalf tonight.”

Samael cast a glance at Madarame, and Crow leaned forward to whisper in the man’s ear. Samael nodded when the brunet finished, and waved the young man back.

“Very well.” He said, and turned to look at the head of the table, where the dealer was supposed to be. “Tonight, we begin the evening with a High Limit special.” He declared, and the crowd came back to life, excited cheering filling the casino after he spoke. “The dealer, where is she?”

“Right here, sir.” Oracle declared, striding out of the staff corridor with a masked young woman in a lavender dress in tow. A spotlight shone on her to let Yusuke see the rhinestones on her own deep black suit with green highlights, and the young woman followed after her silently as she came to a stop at the poker table. “Good evenin’, ladies and gents.” She greeted, “Tonight’s High Limit special is extra-special, since we've got a full house!” She gestured at the people seated across her grandly, and the crowd exploded into cheers. “Let's hear it for the supporters of each player, startin’ with Asmodeus!”

The man stood up, waving at the crowd, and a considerable amount of people cheered for him.

He sat back down with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, and Yusuke could tell Bael was glaring at him for his popularity.

“What about Bael!” Oracle cheered, and the man stood up, nodding at the cheering crowd.

“Leviathan!”

The woman stood up to the sound of raucous applause and wolf whistling, and with a wave of her hand, the crowd fell silent. She sat down to smirk at Arsene, who chuckled fondly at her, giving her a nod.

“Mammon!”

The man didn't get up from his seat, but he simply raised his hand to the sound of cheers from the crowd.

“Fox!”

Yusuke hurried to get on his feet, and he was met with loud applause and cheers, much to his surprise. His eyes widened, and he gave the crowd a bow before sitting back down.

“Popular, aren't you?” Arsene smiled at him. “Well, you did win a night with Joker on your very first night here. No doubt you'd be a crowd favourite.”

Yusuke lowered his head in embarrassment, as Oracle called the next name.

“Satanael!”

Arsene got up to loud cheering as well, taking his hat off to bow at the crowd with a great flourish. He sat down again after that, fixing his hat with a satisfied grin.

“And last, but not the least, our very own owner, Samael!”

The crowd burst out in almost deafening cheers as Samael got up, raising his hand at the crowd as he grinned smugly, and behind him, Yusuke saw Crow’s hands ball into fists beside him. Yusuke’s expression fell at that, but his attention was drawn back to Oracle when Samael sat down again.

“Alright, everyone, listen up! Tonight's High Limit Special was thought of by our very own Crown Jewel, Joker!” She declared, and the crowd cheered. “He's offering 10 million yen, and a night in his penthouse suite that you won't ever forget!”

“10 million…!” Madarame breathed, stars in his eyes.

“That's right, 10 million!” Oracle nodded. “And a night to do whatever you want with Joker!” She grinned, but Yusuke could see the edges of her facade cracking. She didn't want this. “And that means _aaanything._ For the whole night, folks!”

“Ah, lucky bastards!” Yusuke heard someone in the crowd say from behind him, and his skin crawled.

“Yeah, the chance to do _anything_ with Joker for _the whole night?_ I'd kill for a chance to rape that beautiful slut for a whole night!”

Yusuke’s hand balled into a shaking fist on his lap under the table, anger boiling hot and red under his skin, but he jumped when he felt a hand curl over his fist. He looked at Arsene, whose smile had dropped off his face in a serious scowl.

“I swear it, Fox,” he murmured quietly. “I will aid you towards victory tonight, if only to keep my beloved Joker safe and happy.” He squeezed Yusuke’s hand. “For now, hold your tongue and cool your anger. These fools know not of what they are talking about.”

Yusuke took a deep, shaking breath. “Thank you, Satanael.”

Arsene nodded, and pulled away from him as Oracle stepped aside to allow the young woman in lavender to step up next to her.

“So tonight, we've prepared something pretty neat.” She grinned, and the woman held up two decks of cards.

Yusuke's eyes widened at them. “Wait, those are not…”

“We’ll be playing Texas Hold’em poker—but with tarot cards.” She grinned widely. “So listen closely to the rules, while my guest Moirae here will provide you with some good, accurate tarot readings.”

Yusuke looked over at Samael, who was watching Oracle speak, but his eyes narrowed on the man when he saw a smirk crossing his face, his legs crossing and uncrossing under the table.

Joker’s night was on the line again, he thought.

There was absolutely _no way_ he was going to let Joker suffer it in the company of anyone else but himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 18 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Realisation dawned on Yusuke. Leviathan was _cheating_.
> 
> “Oh, we all are.” Arsene chuckled, and Yusuke jumped. “You were muttering things, Fox. Please, do feel free to call me out whenever.” He murmured, “Leviathan has an upright Priestess.” 
> 
> Yusuke swallowed nervously. “I-I understand. Thank you.”
> 
> On any other day, Yusuke would have scoffed at the even _mention_ of cheating, but this was a game rigged to be detrimental to all who played it, and he had no choice. 
> 
> He looked down at his cards, the ten and nine of swords, and then at the table, where there was the eight of swords, and the seven of swords. He bit his lip, chewing nervously. With this he could aim for a straight—or a flush, if he was lucky. Maybe he didn’t need to call Arsene or Leviathan out for this round.
> 
> “No one else callin’ people out?” Oracle asked, and Bael pushed forward a tower of chips. 
> 
> “Fox.” He said, and Yusuke froze up, steeling his expression as he tucked his cards close to himself. They weren’t allowed to hide their cards in their clothes, but he did his best to hide them from any potential peepers behind him. “Emperor. Upright.”
> 
> Yusuke blinked, and behind Samael, he saw Crow poorly cover a smirk behind his hand. He cocked his head at that, and the young man’s eyes met his. Crow gave him a wink, and then pointed at his master using the nose of his mask, inconspicuously turning his body.
> 
> There was no way this was happening. Was Crow… _helping him?_


	18. les yeux trompeurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the cheating eyes)
> 
> “I’d like to say that I am similar to your Crow in the regard that I am here for thrills,” Yusuke said, “However, I am an honest man.”
> 
> Crow’s smirk widened at him, and Yusuke was grateful for the mask that hid his blush. 
> 
> “I will fully admit it—I am here to be seduced by the Crown Jewel.” He said, thankful he didn’t stumble over his words. “Joker is an addicting taste I find myself never getting enough of, so I will not concede here tonight, not to anyone, not even you, sir.” He bowed his head respectfully, though he meant anything but. 
> 
> Samael glowered at him. “Impertinent boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay tarot poker is hard to explain if you don't already know how to play poker and uhhhhh ok just a quick (too fucking late) overview of rules:
> 
> \- you're dealt two hands and you're allowed to check them prior to betting, or folding (something i glossed over for this fic HAHAHAH)  
> \- the dealer then deals three cards (the flop) and a new round of betting/folding is done.  
> \- the fourth card is dealt (the turn card) and then a final round of betting/folding.  
> \- fifth card is dealt (the river card) and that's the end of it.  
> \- you're supposed to make the best hand of five cards that include your two cards and three from the shared cards. you can also bet high enough to force everyone else to fold, but that's not allowed in The Metaverse High Limit games, that's too boring. ;^)
> 
> then there's different ranks for best cards, royal flush > straight flush > four of a kind > et cetera, it's too long to completely explain, but that's the gist of it. poker really isn't as complicated as movies make it out to be. ;^)
> 
> as for tarot poker, it's generally similar, but instead of four suits you have 7. yep, _7_. first there's the minor arcana, which substitute the four suits quite nicely, with the addition of the page, alongside the knight, queen and king. the major arcana are divided into three different suits that are automatically higher ranked than the minor arcana, with the World and the Fool as a separate suit containing only the ace and the 10, respectively. The rest of the arcana, from Magician to Fortune, constitutes the second suit, and then from Justice/Strength to Judgement constitutes the third. in numerical order, they go from ace (Magician/Strength/Justice) to 10 (Fortune/Judgement). that's pretty much it!
> 
> took me a while to learn all this but i now have a newfound respect for gamblers and tarot card readers. now if only i could get myself my own deck... ~~i won't even use it for divination, i'd just play poker with it!~~
> 
> sorry for the really wordy beginning note lmao 
> 
> also sorry for worrying anyone, i really am. dw about me that was a big boo-boo i did admitting all that in the last note lmao
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

Tarot poker was much, much more complicated than Yusuke would have liked. With the additional twist The Metaverse threw in—like as if poker with tarot cards was not twisted enough—it made the stakes much higher than ever before.

The ground rules for tarot poker was that all the players started off with 5 million yen to play with, and whomever has a balance going lower than 1 million would be eliminated from the game. To win, someone had to be the last man standing, or have won more than half of all the money they had in the game combined—at least 17.5 million yen or over. The winner walked away with at least 27 million after that, and a night to do anything they wanted to Joker.

And then there was the High Limit wildcard twist—any player, at any time of the game, could pay 100,000 yen to guess what cards their competitors held, and if they were correct, their competitor was forced to fold. It was harder than the poker game he played with just Leviathan, Bael, Asmodeus and Crow—Joker was nowhere to be found as of yet, and there was no clue-buying here. The stakes were higher, the risks, larger than anything Yusuke was comfortable dealing with.

All the more was he glad he had allies.

“Asmodeus,” Arsene was smirking as he fanned himself with his cards—blatantly displayed to Yusuke to let him see it was a Fool, reversed, and the King of Pentacles. Thinking back to how Moirae explained the Major Arcana and the alignment of cards, and then Oracle’s conversion of the tarot Minor Arcana to the standard poker suits, he was sure Arsene had a good hand, but still decided to show Yusuke his cards anyway, extending the olive branch for him to win.

Oracle was smirking. “Let’s hear it, Satanael. You’re on a roll tonight.”

“You flatter me.” Arsene chuckled. “You have the Lovers in your hand right now, and oh—it’s reversed, isn’t it?”

Asmodeus jolted, on edge ever since the first few rounds where Arsene relentlessly kept forcing him to fold. Yusuke winced when the man grumbled, and lowered his hand to show he had a reversed Lovers card, and the four of wands. The crowd cheered behind them, and Arsene laughed, cruelly, as Asmodeus glowered at him.

“Ah, easy to read as ever!” He clapped his hands daintily, and beside him Leviathan scoffed.

“Showoff.” She said, pushing forward a tower of chips towards Oracle. “Oracle, I’d like to call out Mammon.”

“Okay.” Oracle nodded, and the man in question glowered at Leviathan. She smirked back at him, and Yusuke realised that Lune was standing behind the man, still scribbling in that tiny notebook, but for some reason, it was upside-down.

“Reversed Empress.” She said, and the man swore, throwing his cards down to reveal the Star and the Empress, both reversed. Yusuke gulped at the sight of _two_ Major Arcana in the man’s hand, and he looked at Lune again to see that the young man had lowered his notebook to watch Leviathan intently.

Realisation dawned on Yusuke. Leviathan was _cheating_.

“Oh, we all are.” Arsene chuckled, and Yusuke jumped. “You were muttering things, Fox. Please, do feel free to call me out whenever.” He murmured, and Yusuke realised the Frenchman was holding a small pocket mirror, ornate with beautiful engravings. It looked like it belonged to a noblewoman, and Yusuke wasn’t surprised if he had stolen it. “Leviathan has an upright Priestess.”

Yusuke swallowed nervously. “I-I understand. Thank you.”

On any other day, Yusuke would have scoffed at the even _mention_ of cheating, but this was a game rigged to be detrimental to all who played it, and he had no choice.

He looked down at his cards, the ten and nine of swords, and then at the table, where there was the eight of swords, and the seven of swords. He bit his lip, chewing nervously. With this he could aim for a straight—or a flush, if he was lucky. Maybe he didn’t need to call Arsene or Leviathan out for this round.

“No one else callin’ people out?” Oracle asked, and Bael pushed forward a tower of chips.

“Fox.” He said, and Yusuke froze up, steeling his expression as he tucked his cards close to himself. They weren’t allowed to hide their cards in their clothes, but he did his best to hide them from any potential peepers behind him. “Emperor. Upright.”

Yusuke blinked, and behind Samael, he saw Crow poorly cover a smirk behind his hand. He cocked his head at that, and the young man’s eyes met his. Crow gave him a wink, and then pointed at his master using the nose of his mask, inconspicuously turning his body.

There was _no way_ this was happening. Was Crow… _helping him?_

“Fox.” Madarame said quietly beside him. “Did you see Crow?”

“Yes, sensei.”

“It is your prerogative to trust him. It is still early, and we have plenty in our bank to afford a loss for now. Take a gamble on his information for now.”

Risks were meant to be taken, he supposed.

He shook his head. “I am not holding an upright Emperor, Bael.” He declared, and Queen walked around to inspect his cards. She shook her head to confirm his statement, and Bael swore, slamming his fist lightly onto the table, making their chips rattle.

“Ooh, yikes.” Oracle snickered, “Wipeout.”

“Oracle,” Yusuke said, and the girl nodded at him. “I’d like to call out Samael.”

The air went completely still, and Bael, Arsene and Leviathan all gaped at him with surprise in their eyes. Samael glared Yusuke down, and behind him, Crow’s smirk widened.

Here went everything, he thought.

“You have the Emperor in your hand.” He said, and there was a long stretch of silence after that.

“Orientation?” Oracle asked, and Yusuke jumped.

“O-oh, um…” He looked at Crow, who cocked his head at him, and Yusuke realised his mask’s nose was pointing down at his left hand. He looked down to see Crow had his hand splayed open, palm up, his fingers pointing downwards. He squinted at it for a moment, before continuing. “Reversed.”

There was a beat of silence, and much to the shock of all around them, Samael lowered his hand to show he had a reversed Emperor, and an upright Judgement.

The crowd burst into hushed murmurs, and Oracle grinned widely.

“Whoa, hey, Fox. Now _that's_ a lucky guess.”

Yusuke swallowed nervously, nodding. He didn't trust himself to say anything, but left the rest of the world continue to speak for him.

“Alright, no one else?” Oracle asked, and no one spoke up after that. “Okay, and now the river card!”

She set down a one of swords, and grinned at the remaining players.

Bael scowled, and set down his hand. “Fold.” He declared, defeated, and Leviathan looked pointedly at Yusuke and Arsene.

Yusuke shook his head, and set down his cards. “Three of a kind.”

Arsene deflated, and sighing, he set down his own cards. “Also a three of a kind.” He declared, and Leviathan shook her head, setting down her two cards.

“Fold.” She said, and Oracle looked over Arsene and Yusuke’s cards.

“Satanael wins this round.” She declared, and gave Arsene his winnings. She looked at Yusuke worriedly as she shuffled the cards again, and looked at Moirae. “So, who do you read this round?”

“Satanael.” She said, gathering her own deck of tarot cards and set down the last of the cards for the reading. Her eyes widened, and her head shot up to look at him. “You…”

“What is the matter, Moirae?” He asked kindly, though he was frowning as he counted the chips he won. “Is there a bleak future ahead of me?”

“Ruin.” She said, “There is ruin in the not-too-distant future.” She looked down at her cards, shaking her head sadly. “You are a good man, Satanael, but…” she hesitated, and Arsene gave her a supportive smile.

“Please, do tell me.”

“You will be caught.” Moirae’s voice was low, quivering ever so slightly, and Arsene’s eyes widened. Yusuke looked at the man beside him, and he noticed the way the man nervously shifted in his seat. “I don’t know what that means—the cards only tell me you will get caught, and ruin will fall upon you on your road to help a friend.”

Samael looked at Arsene pointedly, and Yusuke swallowed nervously as he leaned back to wave Crow over. He didn’t like the way Samael whispered into the brunet’s ear, and Yusuke hated not knowing what they were talking about.

“Unfortunate.” Arsene replied, cool as ever, but Yusuke could see the tension in his shoulders, in the way he crossed his leg over the other. “I suppose I will have to simply hide better, no?”

“There is no escape.” Moirae breathed shakily. “I-I’m so sorry.”

Arsene shook his head. “Fate can be challenged.” He declared, and nodded at Oracle. “To the next round.”

* * *

Yusuke felt a sense of unease crawling up his throat as the game wore on, and this time he took Arsene, Leviathan and Crow’s help to heart, calling them out, but only after they had gotten rid of the rest of the table. The young man won three rounds after that, and he could see the way Samael’s expression slowly crumbled into a thin veil of neutral disinterest poorly covering quivering anger, and Crow’s smirk behind his master was smug.

Bael was more visibly shaking with anger at how well Yusuke was doing, while Asmodeus grew more conspicuous in the way he tried looking at Yusuke’s cards in an attempt to overthrow their strongest callout at the table.

“I will now do a reading for young Fox,” Moirae declared when a round ended, and Yusuke collected his winnings. The young man nodded at her, and she flipped over the last card for her reading. “Oh!” Her eyes widened in surprise, and he frowned.

“What is the matter?”

“How lovely,” she smiled, “Your feelings for someone is requited.”

At that, Yusuke lit up, his cheeks flushing under his mask, and he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. Moirae, on the other hand, lost the shimmer in her smile as she looked the rest of the cards over.

“Oh, but… you will endure pain, first.” She said, “There will be pleasure, and joy, and love, but only briefly—and then—” She waved her hand. “It will disappear, and you are left with pain, and confusion, and broken hope.”

Yusuke’s eyes widened. Akira liked him back, but there would be hell to pay for it?

“Will it get better?” Arsene asked suddenly, and Yusuke jumped. He hadn’t thought of that.

Moirae looked relieved at that, and she nodded.

“Yes.” She replied, “And you will be happy for the rest of your days.”

Yusuke smiled at her warmly. “Thank you.”

“No, Fox,” Moirae shook her head. “Thank the Fates who have woven your story.”

Yusuke nodded, and the games went on.

Screens by their places on the tables displayed their current balances—Yusuke was in the lead with almost 10 million, followed by Samael, Mammon, and then Arsene and Leviathan in an almost-tie, Asmodeus, and then Bael. He knew they had to keep holding on. At the rate they were going, Yusuke’s victory was almost _sure_ —

“Oracle.”

It’d been a while since Samael had spoken, and Yusuke visibly jumped in his seat when he heard the man suddenly speak. The poker game area fell silent when he spoke, and they watched as Samael pushed forward a tower of chips.

“I will call out Satanael.” He declared, and Arsene frowned, lowering his cards out of view.

“Try me.” He replied flatly, and Samael’s smirk was cruel.

“You have a reversed Hanged Man.” He said, and Arsene flinched.

“I concede.” He sighed, setting down his cards, the Hanged Man and a four of Wands.

“Again.” Samael said, pushing forward another tower of cards, and Oracle looked at him nervously.

“U-um, yeah, okay…” She said, looking worriedly at the remaining players—Mammon, Leviathan, and Yusuke. “Go right ahead…” she swallowed. “Uh, sir.”

“Leviathan.” Samael’s voice was even, though Yusuke could hear the anger boiling underneath it. The woman frowned at him as well, and faced him defiantly. “Temperance, upright.”

Leviathan gaped at him, but she, too, put her hand down to show Temperance, and the Wheel of Fortune.

Yusuke swallowed nervously, and pushed forward a tower of chips before Samael could.

The man glared at him, and he forced his voice to go even. “A discount for your straight flush of enemies,” he said, before looking at Mammon. “Mammon-san,” he said, and the man simply looked at him. Yusuke peered at Crow, who was looking away from the table, his mask’s nose pointing at the chandelier, and he saw it glittering with a myriad of colours, refracting light off crystal fractals shaped like small sunbursts.

Crow was helping him, again.

“You have the Sun in your hand.” He said, and Samael’s eyes narrowed at him as Crow held his hand to his chin, fingers pointing at his lips as if pondering the battle before him. “It is in the upright position, is it not?”

Mammon regarded him for a long moment, before putting down his cards—an upright Sun, and the King of Pentacles.

Yusuke heaved a sigh of relief as Arsene patted his knee, before he looked back at Samael, who was regarding him with cold fury.

“U-um,” Oracle stammered, “Anyone else?”

Yusuke shook his head politely, and Samael didn’t reply. The ginger-haired girl sighed, and nodded.

“Alright. Time for the turn card.” She said, setting down an Emperor, and Yusuke’s eyes narrowed at it. In his hand, he had a reversed Hierophant and the Chariot, and currently on the table next to the Emperor was the Empress and a seven of Cups. He could manage a straight, or a straight flush, if he was lucky.

“Fox, was it?” Samael said suddenly, and the table went quiet again. Yusuke sat up straight, and looked the man in the eye as he answered.

“Yes, that is my name.” He said.

“Hmph.” Samael’s frown was severe, but Yusuke didn’t look away. “You’re around the same age as my Crow, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be spending your time elsewhere, rather than bothering adults at good gentlemanly vices?”

Arsene huffed derisively. “Gentlemanly, he says. He cheated all of us.” He muttered, and much to his surprise, a casino staff member showed up beside him with a tray that had a flute of champagne and a glass of red wine. He blinked at the two drinks, only to see Leviathan take the champagne, gesturing at the glass of red wine.

“Yours,” she said, “I know you prefer red wine.”

He took the drink with little reluctance. “Thank you.” He muttered.

Yusuke held himself back from telling the Frenchman they _all_ had been cheating each other, favouring instead to continue maintaining eye contact with Samael.

“I’d like to say that I am similar to your Crow in the regard that I am here for thrills,” Yusuke said, “However, I am an honest man.”

Crow’s smirk widened at him, and Yusuke was grateful for the mask that hid his blush.

“I will fully admit it—I am here to be seduced by the Crown Jewel.” He said, thankful he didn’t stumble over his words. “Joker is an addicting taste I find myself never getting enough of, so I will not concede here tonight, not to anyone, not even you, sir.” He bowed his head respectfully, though he meant anything but.

Samael glowered at him. “Impertinent boy.”

Yusuke felt Madarame’s hand squeeze his wrist, and Arsene’s hand on his knee, conflicting messages splitting his decision in two.

 _Insult him,_ Madarame’s hand whispered.

 _Save yourself,_ Arsene's hand pleaded.

Well, Yusuke had already been on the man’s hit list ever since his first night there. His reputation preceded him, and he only had one honourable way out of this.

“Arrogant master.”

He gave the man a sweet smile, before pushing forward a tower of chips that amounted to almost a million yen. Samael’s expression warped into rage, and Yusuke felt pride rush through him—a response that was the perfect blend of backhanded insult and saccharine lip service, and he could almost laugh at what he said.

It was exactly what he would expect Joker to say, and somehow it warmed his heart to think of it.

The bald man growled, and pushed forward his own tower of a million yen. “So you dare oppose me. I will love watching you run yourself dry.”

Around them, the crowd burst into cheers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 19 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Akira did his best to give the boy a sweet smile, and when the door shut behind him, Akira collapsed onto the marble floor, taking deep, shaky breaths as he tried to collect himself.
> 
> He could do this, he told himself. Yusuke would come up there, they would talk, and Akira could save him—and then that was another feeler of Shido’s gone, and Yusuke could live a free man with whoever it was he loved so dearly. He wondered briefly if Yusuke understood the bouquet he gave him the other day, and he deflated as he looked up at vase of flowers on his vanity—the bouquet Arsene got him suited the red aesthetic of his suite, and thanks to his time in Rafflesia, Akira managed to keep them looking fresh until now. 
> 
> Slowly he got back up to look himself in the mirror, and he took a rose, tucking it behind his ear.
> 
> “Yusuke…” He murmured, “Please come see me again…”
> 
> He looked down at himself, shucking off his robe to inspect the lingerie he had put on, before he shook his head.
> 
> There was another way to greet Yusuke—and he knew exactly how.
> 
> He reached for a bottle of lube in one of the drawers of his vanity, blushing prettily, like as if he hadn’t done this to himself for years now.
> 
> “Not expecting anything,” he muttered, “I’m not expecting anything.”
> 
> He looked at himself in the mirror, and gave himself a lopsided smile.
> 
> “Oh, who am I kidding.”
> 
> He reached behind him to unlace his black lace bralette, and let it fall to the floor soundlessly.


	19. l'ivresse du pouvoir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (intoxication by power)
> 
> “Please, do have fun with Joker on my behalf, as well.”
> 
> “On your…”
> 
> “Regrettably, I was unable to join the fight for him.” Crow said, “Therefore, I could only depend on you to give him pleasure tonight.”
> 
> Yusuke didn't know why the casino suddenly felt so much brighter—and hotter. Perhaps it was the champagne, he reasoned, and Crow’s smile seemed a little wider than it used to be. 
> 
> Strange, but his head felt lighter and his body was warm under his kimono. He shook his head to clear it. 
> 
> “I-uh, yes,” Yusuke replied. “Thank you. Crow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, they're gonna fuck in chapter 20. hallelujah.
> 
> update on the doc i've now hit almost 78k. _78k_. i don't know what i did to deserve this.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

“Akira.”

Shuffling, and a small huff.

“ _Akiraaaa._ ”

Akira looked over his shoulder at the walk-in closet to see Morgana peeking out of it, and his eyes widened. “Morgana!” He hissed, getting up from where he was seated at his vanity to hurry over to his little brother. He wrapped his silk robe around himself hurriedly as he crossed the room. The marble floor was cold through his sheer stockings, and Akira was grateful he hadn't put on the rest of his outfit—which wasn't much, honestly, but Morgana didn't need to see that, anyway. “Stay inside!”

“Wait,” Morgana whined, “Mona’s upset about something.” He held the kitten up for his brother to look at, and Akira looked down exasperatedly at Mona, who meowed softly up at him.

“Look, he’s just sleepy.” Akira sighed, “Don’t bother him too much, okay? Don’t forget to finish your homework, and then go to bed. I’ll take you home in the morning.”

“You say that every night but you don’t make good on it all the time.” Morgana frowned, and Mona meowed, as if in agreement. Akira deflated, and he knelt down to ruffle Morgana’s hair, kissing his forehead gently.

“I’m sorry, Morgana.” He said, “You know I’m just—I,” He stumbled over his words as the little boy looked up at him expectantly with wide blue eyes. “I’m doing what I can for you, okay? Just… just a little longer, and we can stop coming back to The Metaverse.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Akira nodded, hugging Morgana. “I’m really, really sorry I keep leaving you alone, Morgana. I know you’re lonely, but this is important, okay?”

Morgana frowned at him. “Is this about papa and dad?”

Akira froze, and he looked fearfully down at the little boy. Morgana hung his head, slouching as he hugged the kitten close to himself.

“I know I don’t remember much of what happened, and… my head hurts really badly if I tried, but I know it’s serious enough that we’ve only got each other left.” He said. “I’m sorry I’m being selfish, but I just…” He sniffled. “I’m scared for you, Akira. I’m scared I’ll lose you, too, and we’ll never make it out of The Metaverse—”

“Morgana, no.” Akira said firmly, shaking his head as he hugged his brother again. “No. I—I’m never letting that happen, okay? I…” His eyes welled with tears as he buried his face in the crook of Morgana’s neck. The little boy clung onto him, and Akira could feel the silk of his robe dampen. “Big brother loves you. Don’t forget that.”

“I-I won’t.” Morgana stammered, and Akira pulled away to wipe Morgana’s tears away with his thumb. The boy winced as Akira did so, but he didn’t protest, simply letting him be before he let go.

“Go back inside, okay? Yusuke is coming back—and I’m gonna help him.” Akira kissed Morgana’s forehead, smiling sadly when he saw a red kiss mark on the boy’s forehead. “Just finish your homework and play games until you fall asleep. I’ll be safe tonight, don’t worry.”

“O-okay…” Morgana nodded slowly. “It’s okay if it’s Yusuke or Arsene…” he turned around to head back inside the closet, and gave Akira one last sad look.

Akira did his best to give the boy a sweet smile, and when the door shut behind him, Akira collapsed onto the marble floor, taking deep, shaky breaths as he tried to collect himself.

He could do this, he told himself. Yusuke would come up there, they would talk, and Akira could save him—and then that was another feeler of Shido’s gone, and Yusuke could live a free man with whoever it was he loved so dearly. He wondered briefly if Yusuke understood the bouquet he gave him the other day, and he deflated as he looked up at vase of flowers on his vanity—the bouquet Arsene got him suited the red aesthetic of his suite, and thanks to his time in Rafflesia, Akira managed to keep them looking fresh until now.

Slowly he got back up to look himself in the mirror, and he took a rose, tucking it behind his ear.

“Yusuke…” He murmured, “Please come see me again…”

He looked down at himself, shucking off his robe to inspect the lingerie he had put on, before he shook his head.

There was another way to greet Yusuke—and he knew exactly how.

He reached for a bottle of lube in one of the drawers of his vanity, blushing prettily, like as if he hadn’t done this to himself for years now.

“Not expecting anything,” he muttered, “I’m not expecting anything.”

He looked at himself in the mirror, and gave himself a lopsided smile.

“Oh, who am I kidding.”

He reached behind him to unlace his black lace bralette, and let it fall to the floor soundlessly.

* * *

“Yes, I do have the Devil in my hand.”

Arsene sat back in his seat as he set down his cards—an upright Devil and the seven of wands, carefully watching the game go by. He sipped at his third glass of red wine for the night, before swirling it as he watched the game proceed intently.

Samael and Yusuke had taken to eliminating the rest of the table save for themselves for the past few rounds, and Yusuke’s first-place gap from Samael had decreased significantly. Still, he and Samael were both above 13 million now, and Asmodeus had finally been eliminated from the game.

Just a little longer, and young Yusuke Kitagawa would win.

“Anyone else calling out anyone?” Oracle asked, but no one answered, and she nodded. “Okay. To everyone else remaining, place your bets.”

The players left available on the table were Leviathan, Yusuke and Samael, and Leviathan pushed forward her last proper million. If she lost now, she would be eliminated, and Arsene knew that was her exact intention.

Samael stared Yusuke down as if to challenge him, and pushed forward four towers of chips worth 4 million yen. The crowd around them tittered in nervous excitement, and Yusuke frowned.

This was the final showdown.

He pushed forward the same worth of chips, and the crowd cheered. Oracle nodded.

“And now the river card!”

She put down the last card—a reversed Justice, and Crow’s smirk widened.

He and Yusuke shared a look, and the brunet nodded inconspicuously.

Yusuke set down his cards, glowering at Samael as he revealed an upright Magician and the World. The crowd tittered excitedly as Arsene clapped his hands, laughing softly. Beside him Leviathan set her cards down in a wordless fold, smiling in relief.

“Five of a kind.” Yusuke declared boldly. On the table besides the Justice, there was the ace of pentacles, and the ace of swords, and Oracle’s lips curled up into a wide grin.

“Any contenders?” She asked, and Samael swore, throwing down his cards—an ace of pentacles and a reversed Judgement, and Oracle lit up. “Samael has a full house, which means…”

She raised her arms with a flourish. “Fox wins! His total earnings amount to 27.68 million yen!”

“Jackpot!” Madarame cheered from beside Yusuke, and the young man heaved a sigh of relief, slumping back in his armchair as the tension completely drained out of him, relief turning his bones into jelly. One of the casino staff approached them to help Madarame onto his feet to head to the registration booth to have his card scanned, and Yusuke was content to simply watch them go. Samael got up from his seat furiously to storm away, and Bael shot Yusuke a dirty glare before stalking away on his own. Asmodeus was already gone, but Mammon got up to head over to Yusuke’s seat, offering his hand for the young man to take.

“A good game,” he said plainly, as Yusuke shook his hand. “It takes serious courage to beat Samael himself, though I heard you had similarly no problems with taking his boy down a few notches.”

Crow, Yusuke remembered, and he realised the brunet was now missing from the crowd, as well.

“Ah, yes.” Yusuke nodded. “Thank you very much.” He managed, and Mammon nodded.

“Good—the industry needs a younger generation with leaders as cutthroat as you are.” The man said, almost sternly before striding away, leaving Arsene, who was grinning at him widely, and Leviathan, who had gotten up from her seat to lean on the side of Arsene’s chair. Yusuke looked up at the both of them and gave them a bow.

“I am in your debt, the both of you.” He said, but Arsene shook his head.

“All part of the plan.” He replied, and he looked to Leviathan. “However, I did not know you were in cahoots with Joker as well.”

“Frankly, I am surprised you are.” The woman replied, but she was smiling. “Please do not waste this victory we gave you, Fox. Speak with Joker tonight.”

“I will.” Yusuke nodded determinedly, and as if on cue, Skull showed up, grinning widely. “Ah, Skull.”

“‘Sup, mister winner?” He gave the young man a mock salute. “I'm here to take you upstairs for the rest of the winnings.”

“Of course.” Yusuke lowered his head, and looked at Arsene and Leviathan. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” they agreed, holding up their drinks to him, and Yusuke followed after Skull.

* * *

As they neared the staff corridor entrance, Yusuke was surprised to see Crow standing next to the door, holding two flutes of champagne and eyeing them expectantly. Skull came to a stop by the door, cocking his head at the brunet, who only offered him a kind smile before approaching Yusuke, holding out one of the flutes for Yusuke to take.

“Well done tonight.” Crow said pleasantly, “I was worried you wouldn’t get my clues but I am glad you did.”

“Thank you for that, by the way.” Yusuke bowed at the brunet. “I would not have triumphed without your help.”

“Of course. Anything to help.” Crow replied, and he laughed sweetly when Yusuke cocked his head at him. “I may be my master’s boy, but that doesn’t mean I like it.” His grin was impish, and he lifted his champagne flute in a small toast. “A toast to a pleasurable night with Joker, well-fought and well-deserved.”

“To Joker,” Yusuke replied, and took a sip of the champagne. Much to his surprise, unlike before, it was sweeter, smoothly rolling over his tongue and down his throat like the caress of silk, and before he realised it, he had downed the drink. He blushed when he saw Crow chuckling at him, hand over his mouth, and he lowered the flute in embarrassment. “O-oh, I… I hadn’t meant to—my, how indecent.”

“No, it’s fine.” Crow shook his head. “Fine champagne deserves to be enjoyed, after all.” He raised his own flute, half-empty, to emphasize his point. “Please, do have fun with Joker on my behalf, as well.”

“On your…”

“Regrettably, I was unable to join the fight for him.” Crow said, “Therefore, I could only depend on you to give him pleasure tonight.”

Yusuke didn't know why the casino suddenly felt so much brighter—and hotter. Perhaps it was the champagne, he reasoned, and Crow’s smile seemed a little wider than it used to be.

Strange, but his head felt lighter and his body was warm under his kimono. He shook his head to clear it.

“I-uh, yes,” Yusuke replied. “Thank you. Crow.”

“The pleasure is mine.” The brunet nodded, before turning to Skull. “Apologies, I had simply wanted to congratulate Fox for tonight's game.” He said, and the blond shrugged.

“Yeah, okay?” He ventured, and Crow chuckled.

“Oh, allow me, Fox.” He said kindly, taking the empty flute off Yusuke’s unsteady hand, and gave the two a friendly wave. “I must be off. Samael would be looking for a punching bag soon.”

Skull winced. “Yikes, man.”

“I'm used to it.” Crow shrugged. “Until next time.” He strode away confidently, and Skull turned to look at Yusuke.

“Hey, you okay?”

His entire world felt like it was tilting, but Yusuke nodded anyway. He needed to see Joker.

“I'm fine.” He replied. “Though, I do feel rather warm…”

“Alcohol, man.” Skull shook his head. “The shit it does to you, really…”

“Y-yes, that must be it.” Yusuke stumbled slightly, holding onto Skull’s shoulder. The blond let him, gently leading him into the staff corridors to head upstairs towards Joker’s suite. “Apologies, it seems I have a weak tolerance for alcohol…”

“I'll have Lune get you a glass of water.” Skull nodded, before muttering something into a mouthpiece hanging from an earpiece. He turned his attention back to Yusuke as they approached the elevator, and he patted the young man’s shoulder. “He’ll be here any moment, so hang tight, dude. I think the water will be enough for a chaser, you'll be sober in no time.” Skull helped Yusuke rest against the wall next to Joker’s elevator, and stood on the lookout for anyone who might approach them.

After what felt like an eternity, Lune came hurrying towards them, an unopened bottle of distilled water in his hand.

“H-hey!” He greeted, holding it up to let Skull see it, and the blond straightened up to take the bottle from him, cracking it open in front of Yusuke before holding it up to him. “Are you okay, Fox-san?” He asked, and Yusuke nodded, downing half of the water with a relieved sigh. His body felt overheated, and the water did little to help, but he nodded in thanks anyway, grateful his mask hid his embarrassingly flushed face.

“Thank you,” he said, “I-I do believe I can go see Joker now?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Skull nodded, and pressed the elevator button to open it. “C’mon.”

Yusuke stumbled in after him, Lune at his heels, and he took a deep breath as he leant on the wall of the elevator, finishing off the rest of the bottle.

“Y’know, Joker missed you.” Lune said after a long moment of awkward silence, and Yusuke looked at the young man. He had a hard time focusing on what kind of face Lune could have been making, and Yusuke didn't know why his mind was so… clouded. But by bit it felt like his inhibitions were jumping out of the window, and the need to see Joker ached more painfully than it should have.

“Oh, yeah.” Skull agreed, laughing softly. “We were all worried you wouldn't come back to him, but he was just so dead sure you'd come back.” He shrugged. “And you did. So thanks for that, dude.”

Yusuke could only offer them a sheepish smile, and the desire to see Joker had somehow warped into an intense need to see him—and kiss him, and press him against the wall and—

“Oop, we're here.” Skull grinned at Yusuke as the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. “Get going, loverboy. I ain't gonna frisk you, we all know you're a good guy—and besides, not a lotta things you can hide under a kimono.”

“You'd be surprised,” Lune replied as Yusuke stumbled out of the elevator.

“Man, he looks way too normal in that…” Skull continued, but that was the last Yusuke heard of them as the doors slid shut.

He dragged himself onwards towards Joker’s room, and he found the door unlocked. He let himself inside, stumbling and unsteady in his steps as realisation dawned on him. He looked at the _Incarceration_ with shock as his consciousness began to waver.

The burning _need_ to see Joker again warped into the burning need to see Akira again, white-hot and intense, concentrated on the area where most of his blood had gathered.

This wasn't good.

He was horny— _painfully_ horny.

“Fox?” A soft voice asked, and Yusuke jumped, whirling around to see the prostitute standing at the doorway, dressed in a black silk robe. Yusuke’s head spun, and a voice in his head began to whisper.

_Take him, kiss him, fuck him, make him_ **_yours._**

Yusuke drew back, wincing, as Joker hurried to him, worry clear on his face.

“Fox, what's wrong?” He asked, and his voice sounded so much like Akira's, how did he not notice…?

“I want you,” he croaked out, shocked at how rough his voice was, and Joker’s eyes went wide. His hands grasped him by his shoulders, and he suddenly needed that robe off him, he needed his lips on his, his body under his, his hole sweetly taking his cock in whole, all the while begging for more. “Joker—I—”

It wasn't Joker he wanted, it was Akira.

_He said it was fine to think of the person you wanted while you fucked him, right?_

The devil whispered in his ear, and much to his horror, it was _his_ voice doing the talking.

He kissed Joker, _hard_ , and he pushed the prostitute back against the wall, swallowing the moan Joker made as their bodies pressed together hotly.

_Do it, Yusuke. Fuck him. Make him yours._

With pleasure, he thought, and began to let his hands wander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 20 preview! WARNING: NSFW!**
> 
>  
> 
> “I want you so badly, Yusuke.” Akira whimpered, “I've dreamed of this for s-so long,”
> 
> “Akira.” It was like his name was the only thing Yusuke knew how to say, and the thought was exhilarating. “You're… beautiful.”
> 
> Akira had foregone putting concealer over his bruises and healing burns, Yusuke had seen them before, and now, completely uncovered and without the mask to hide his face, Yusuke’s words seeped deeper into his skin than ever. He shivered deeply, barely noticing Yusuke sit up to pull him into another kiss, gently unclasping the Queen’s Necklace from his neck to let it drop onto the floor. 
> 
> “That's Arsene's family’s.” Akira giggled against Yusuke’s lips, but the artist didn't reply, moving down to press featherlight kisses down the column of Akira’s neck. “O-oh, Yusuke—”
> 
> “I want to—I,” he winced against Akira’s skin, his hands coming to a rest on his ass, and the prostitute let out a surprised squeak. “Please, Akira—I want you…”
> 
> “Oh my god, yes.” Akira hissed, taking hold of one of Yusuke’s hands to press his finger to his wet hole. “I-I was hoping for this—I know I said I wanted to talk, but—”
> 
> Yusuke cut him off with a deep, sensual kiss that made Akira’s toes curl as Yusuke’s finger slipped inside him.


	20. aime-moi comme tu le fais

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (love me like you do)
> 
> “I love you, Yusuke,” he said again, desperation cracking his voice. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > persona au where Igor says "h-hewwo,, w-wewwcom to thwe vewvet woom... owo"
>> 
>> — bukkun/arsenefukr69 (@trickscd) [29 August 2017](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/902389228591431681)
> 
> btw, congrats on the sex, guys. you deserved it.
> 
> ~~honestly though i hate the way i write porn, too much italics, smh,~~
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

The last thing Akira expected Yusuke to do was to show up in his suite, tell him he wanted him, and then kiss the living daylights out of him against the wall, right next to his painting.

It wasn't something Akira saw coming, but it didn't mean he didn't want it. As he kissed him back, moaning softly as Yusuke’s hands wandered over his body, skin separated by silk, a little inkling of a thought began to blossom in his mind.

Maybe Yusuke really _did_ like him back. Maybe Yusuke finally let his first love go and decided Joker— _Akira_ —was more worthy of his time than whoever that other person was.

Maybe this time, Yusuke wasn't the only lucky one.

“Mm, Fox, wait—” Akira managed between the brief moment of stolen breaths between them, and his words dissolved into breathless moans as Yusuke kissed him again, and again, and again. Helpless to the sudden rush of pleasure through him, Akira reached up to bury his hands in Yusuke’s silky hair, pulling him closer to deepen their kiss. His leg, still in a sheer black thigh-high stocking held up by a garter belt, snaked out from under his robe to pull Yusuke’s hot, hot hips against his own, and he relished he groan he got from the taller man as he ground their crotches together. Sweet, sweet friction and the addicting taste of Yusuke’s lips on his flooded Akira’s mind, sheer relief and _joy_ overtaking every thought process in his head—Yusuke liked him back! _Yusuke wanted him!_ He could scream it to all the world, and it would not be enough.

Just like that, all thoughts of escaping The Metaverse, erasing his family’s debt, and recovering the Nijima will were swept away like the grains of sand on the seashore. For now, none of that mattered—The Metaverse didn't exist, the Devil wearing Masayoshi Shido’s face did not bother them, there were no masks between them—

He was being kissed by Yusuke Kitagawa, of his own accord, against his suite wall, where heat built high like a geyser spout. Sooner or later, things would move from here, to the bed, and every single pit stop Yusuke wanted along the way.

Oh, he could spend all evening like this.

“I want you,” Yusuke panted against Akira's lips, and the prostitute nodded desperately.

“Yeah, Fox, just—do whatever you want with me, do it—”

“ _Akira._ ” Yusuke growled as he pulled his mouth away from him, instead pressing the rest of his body against him _hard_ against the wall, and it was difficult to breathe, not because of the proximity—

Because of his _name_.

“Yusuke,” Akira gasped, eyes welling with tears, and he finally dared to pull Yusuke’s mask off to see his handsome face, flushed red with desire, eyes dilated and fixed on him so _hard_ that it made Akira’s blood _sing_ with joy. He deflated in relief, cupping Yusuke’s face in his hand, as Yusuke tore his mask off, throwing it aside to kiss him properly again, grunting softly as they ground against each other on the wall. “Mm, _Yusuke—_ ”

“Akira.” He breathed again, heavy and desperate. “I want you—Akira—”

“You have me, all of me.” Akira panted, nodding as he pulled away from him to look him in the eye. “Let—lemme suck you off.”

Yusuke groaned, nodding, and Akira flipped them so it was Yusuke against the wall, choking slightly when his back slammed against the marble. The pain seemed inconsequential, in the way Yusuke’s eyes fixated on him as he sunk down onto his knees, reverently running his hands down the silk of Yusuke’s kimono. Akira’s hands worked deftly, undoing his obi and letting it slide to the ground, before pushing aside the robes to let him see Yusuke’s erection straining against dark blue briefs.

“You're gorgeous,” Akira breathed, stars in his eyes as he took his cock out from its restraints, stroking it with a loose fist to hear a strangled moan escape Yusuke’s lips. “You sound so _good_.” Akira leant forward to press a kiss to the tip of the head, relishing the heat that radiated off it. “Bet you taste good, too.”

“Do it,” Yusuke’s voice pitched into a desperate whine, and Akira nodded, obediently taking the head into his mouth with a hard suck, and he relished the sight of the artist moaning, throwing his head back to slam against the wall. “Ah, Akira, _yes—_ ”

Akira hummed, pleased as he took in the rest of Yusuke’s cock easily, relaxing his throat to feel him bump against the back of it while he buried his nose into his pubic hair. Happily he sucked on his cock, moaning when he felt Yusuke's hand ball into a fist in his hair, and he let the young man pull him off his cock by the hair.

“Ah, Yusuke—” he gasped, pleasure mixing with pain as he felt Yusuke’s too-tight grip yank at his scalp. “Cum in my mouth, please, fuck my mouth, my throat—”

He felt a light burst of precum leak from Yusuke’s head, smearing against his lips like a debauched lipstick, and he did his best to nuzzle Yusuke’s cock with his cheek, despite the hand in his hair.

“Want you to cum in my mouth, wanna taste you.” Akira pleaded. “I-it's all I've thought about, you fucking me until I can't breathe.”

“Dear god, _Akira_.” Yusuke winced, “You—you—”

“Please, Yusuke, please do it, I want to suck you off.”

The only reply he got was Yusuke letting go of his hair, and Akira happily dived back into sucking him off. He let out a pleased sound as he sucked Yusuke into his mouth again, taking him in deep until the whole shaft was in his mouth, and he squeezed Yusuke’s hip encouragingly when he felt them start bucking into his mouth. With a groan Yusuke did as he was told, taking hold of Akira's head to steady it as he began fucking into his mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure as the warm, wet walls clenched around him, until he was pushed off the edge, his orgasm hitting hard as he came hard, down into Akira’s throat.

With a pleased hum, Akira swallowed it all down, pulling off Yusuke’s cock with an obscene pop, and he cooed in delight to see he was still erect.

“Let's keep going.” Akira purred, sliding up Yusuke's body to tangle his hands in his hair, watching him pant heavily, still twitching from his orgasm. “You're still hard, Yusuke.”

“Akira.” Yusuke looked dazed, his eyes unfocused now, but dilated, somehow still gravitating to Akira. “Akira… you…”

“Shh,” Akira said softly, taking his hand and pulling him along into the bedroom proper. He lovingly pulled Yusuke’s kimono off, letting it drop to the ground, and manoeuvred him to lie back in bed, lifting his legs to pull his briefs off. “You look so good, Yusuke, _god_ ,” he shucked his robe off, excitement thrumming in his veins as he saw Yusuke’s eyes lock onto his body, revealing every inch of skin the robe hid.

Akira was wearing nothing but his sheer thigh-high stockings, held up by a lace garter belt, and the Queen’s Necklace hanging from his neck. His own erection stood hot and leaking, charmingly mismatched with the lace adorning his hips and thighs, and Yusuke’s hungry gaze on him made him shiver.

“I want you so badly, Yusuke.” Akira whimpered, “I've dreamed of this for s-so long,”

“Akira.” It was like his name was the only thing Yusuke knew how to say, and the thought was _exhilarating_. “You're… beautiful.”

Akira had foregone putting concealer over his bruises and healing burns, Yusuke had seen them before, and now, completely uncovered and without the mask to hide his face, Yusuke’s words seeped deeper into his skin than ever. He shivered deeply, barely noticing Yusuke sit up to pull him into another kiss, gently unclasping the Queen’s Necklace from his neck to let it drop onto the floor.

“That's Arsene's family’s.” Akira giggled against Yusuke’s lips, but the artist didn't reply, moving down to press featherlight kisses down the column of Akira’s neck. “O-oh, Yusuke—”

“I want to—I,” he winced against Akira’s skin, his hands coming to a rest on his ass, and the prostitute let out a surprised squeak. “Please, Akira—I want you…”

“Oh my god, _yes._ ” Akira hissed, taking hold of one of Yusuke’s hands to press his finger to his wet hole. “I-I was hoping for this—I know I said I wanted to talk, but—”

Yusuke cut him off with a deep, sensual kiss that made Akira’s toes curl as Yusuke’s finger slipped inside him. The prostitute moaned into his mouth as Yusuke fingered him open, one finger quickly escalating to three as Akira began rocking back on Yusuke’s intruding fingers.

“A-ahh, Yusuke—I—I want your cock,” Akira begged against the other man’s mouth, cupping Yusuke’s cheek in his hand to keep him grounded. “Please, come inside me. Split me open.”

“Akira.” Yusuke groaned, pulling his fingers out to the sound of Akira's soft whine, and he pulled away to cup Akira’s face with his clean hand. “Please…”

“I'll ride you,” Akira nodded, pulling away to take Yusuke’s wet cock in his hand. Carefully he aligned his entrance with the head, and he looked at Yusuke, biting his lip.

“Y-you ready?”

Yusuke nodded hurriedly, and Akira immediately sank down, cherishing the delicious burn and the feeling of being split open as he threw his head back, pleasure rocking him to the very core. He sheathed Yusuke inside himself to the hilt, gasping as he felt the head press firmly against his prostate. His eyes went wide, and his spine went ramrod straight.

“A- _ahh,_ Yusuke, oh my god—”

Yusuke darted forward to pull Akira into a heated kiss, swallowing his moan as he let Akira adjust, though he couldn't help the shallow thrusts his hips made against Akira’s hips.

“You—you feel wonderful, Akira,” Yusuke gasped, and Akira let a smirk cross his face. “So—so hot and wonderful, and— _ah_ —”

Akira squeezed him tightly, and Yusuke involuntarily bucked against him, _hard,_ tearing a squeal of surprise from Akira’s throat.

“Y-Yusuke, that’s—”

Yusuke looked up at him, and Akira gave him a sultry smile.

There was a brief moment of clarity—where Yusuke’s eyes suddenly became focused again and all that was in them was panic—and _fear_ —and it was like they were Joker and Fox again, bound together and intertwined in the most intimate way.

Yusuke opened his mouth to speak again, but Akira cut him off with a kiss, and the clarity was befuddled with the haze of pleasure again.

“Mm, treat me rough, Yusuke,” Akira hummed, “Fuck me as hard as you want. Tease me if you wanna. We have _all night._ ”

God, kissing Yusuke was like a drug. With every slide of their skin together, Akira felt fuzzier and fuzzier, but the taste was so intoxicating, he couldn't stop having more and more of it.

Yusuke’s reply was a simple grunt, and his hands went down to Akira’s hips to hold them in a bruising grip.

“Ah, yeah, just like that—”

Akira ground down on him hard, and with that signal, Yusuke began to thrust up into Akira’s wet, warm heat, the sound of skin slapping skin and the creaks of the bed punctuating Akira's soft staccato of gasps. Enthusiastically Akira bounced on Yusuke's erection, head thrown back to let Yusuke watch him come undone, his own erect cock leaking and bouncing between their bodies as they fucked with animalistic desperation.

“Y-Yusuke—”

“Akira!”

The artist grabbed Akira’s cock, pumping it hard in a perfectly tight fist, and Akira let out a mewl of pleasure as he came, spilling ribbons over Yusuke’s chest.

Not long after he did, Yusuke buried himself deep inside Akira, wincing as he came hard into him, filling him up with his cum.

Akira slumped down on top of Yusuke, panting, but he had a dreamy smile on his face. He looked up at Yusuke, and nuzzled his chest, unmindful of his cum streaking his pectorals.

“I love you, Yusuke.”

“Akira, I—” Yusuke winced, and Akira cocked his head at him.

“Yusuke?”

Much to Akira’s surprise, Yusuke pulled out of him to show he was still—amazingly—hard. Akira’s eyes widened, but he had no time to say anything when the body he was laying on top of rolled aside, and his face was pushed into the pillows. His legs, jelly-boned and pliant like a doll’s, were pulled apart as his hips were raised, presenting his leaking ass to Yusuke as he made his way around Akira.

The prostitute blushed deeply. “A-again? So soon?” He turned around to look at Yusuke over his shoulder, and his eyes widened at the sheepish, almost innocent look on his face.

“Please.” Yusuke nodded, biting his lip, the image of bashfulness, and Akira’s brain screeched to a halt.

“Yes, please,” he breathed, and gasped as Yusuke slid right inside, fitting so perfectly it felt like they were made for each other. Akira let out a scream as his prostate was pressed on, full-force, and his sensitive walls tingled with prickly heat as Yusuke draped himself over him, panting like he had run a race. “Oh, my god. Yusuke.”

“Forgive me, Akira,” Yusuke grit his teeth, and Akira leaned back to kiss him, moaning softly as Yusuke reached down from his neck, past his nipples and the plane of his stomach to fiddle with his garter belt. “I-I can't—stop. You—you're—I can't get enough of you.”

“Take me, take all I can give you,” Akira nodded, wincing as he felt Yusuke start to pull out of him, the sweet burn of his slow movement sending bolts of desire down his spine. “And more. Don't ever stop. Use me all night long.”

“God, _Akira._ ” Yusuke winced, thrusting back into him, and Akira let out a broken moan as Yusuke’s hand went lower, past his garter belt to wrap around his spent cock. “I will never forget this.”

“M-me too,” Akira gasped, as Yusuke began to fuck into him eagerly again. “A-ah, yes—mm, Yusuke, harder, more—”

Yusuke let out a sound that was akin to a growl, and Akira whimpered as he felt teeth on his nape, and Yusuke’s cock throb inside him in a dry orgasm.

“A-ah, w-was that… you didn’t come?”

“Akira,” Yusuke pulled out of him to flip him around, pressing him into the mattress to rub their erections together. “One more.” He pleaded, looking desperately into Akira’s eyes, and Akira wanted to burn the sight into the back of his eyelids.

Akira’s cheeks were bright red.

Oh, he could never say no to a man like Yusuke.

“Of course,” he gasped, and pleasure sparked with pain under his skin as Yusuke’s hand tightened around their erections, pressing them deliciously together. “Oh, my god.”

“Akira, Akira,” Yusuke peppered Akira’s face with tender kisses as he began to rut against Akira’s cock and his hand, and the prostitute grabbed his face to kiss him fully, moaning softly as pleasure built between them again, burning slowly and sweetly.

“I love you, Yusuke,” he said again, desperation cracking his voice. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~to those who picked up on what goro was up to... ;^) well done. you all could be ace detectives too!~~
> 
> **Chapter 21 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> He picked up the watch to inspect the face in the dim light—stopped forever at 5:35. Regardless, he put it on, before picking up the lighter to trace the engravings with his thumb. 
> 
> _The most important things can't be seen with the eyes._
> 
> Akira deflated, and hugged it close to himself, closing his fist around it as he shut his eyes. 
> 
> He missed them. 
> 
> Morgana stirred again, and he looked up to see the lighter in Akira's hand. “You looking at them again?” He mumbled, and Akira laughed sadly. 
> 
> “I was gonna tell them that Yusuke likes me back.”
> 
> “Oh, he does?” Morgana’s smile widened. “I'm glad. Papa would be glad too.”
> 
> Akira laughed softly, and he let himself believe that somehow, the wristwatch squeezed his wrist the way his father used to. 
> 
> “Dad would probably demand to see him.” Akira continued, and Morgana giggled. “Look him up in the police archives to check if he'd been up to any funny business.”
> 
> He clicked the zippo lighter in his hand, and Morgana sighed. 
> 
> “Hey, Akira?”
> 
> “Yeah?”
> 
> “I miss them.”
> 
> Somewhere in his chest, Akira felt his heart break a little, and he laughed quietly. 
> 
> “Yeah… me too.”


	21. famille, perdu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (family, lost)
> 
> “Hey, Akira?”
> 
> “Yeah?”
> 
> “I miss them.”
> 
> Somewhere in his chest, Akira felt his heart break a little, and he laughed quietly. 
> 
> “Yeah… me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [BITES FIST REALLY REALLY HARD] SORRY I'M LATE, I WAS CRAMMING AN 11k+ FIC TO UPLOAD AT THE SAME TIME AS THIS FOR SOME FUCKING REASON [clikc here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11968446) to read it, it's a spin-off about how akira got the title of crown jewel in the metaverse! lots lots lots of warnings in the tags, so please read the tags carefully before diving into the fic!
> 
> there's quite a bit of p2 references in here so i hope that gets more people to look it up! and to those who already love p2 HI I LOVE P2 I LOVE KATSUYA THE BEST FIGHT ME
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

Akira woke up feeling pleasantly sore, and a smile crossed his face as he looked down to see a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. His body ached and screamed in protest, but unlike the times where he had been passed around like a sex toy, these pains were of the sweetest kind—the most stark reminder of what happened between him and Yusuke not too long ago.

He turned around in Yusuke’s arms to look at the painter’s sleeping face, humming affectionately as he tucked his hair behind his ear.

He’d lost count of how many times they had sex—each round blurred into the other, and Akira was happy to go through it all, overjoyed that he finally had the chance to lay with Yusuke, to tell him how he really felt.

Even now, his heart felt swollen in his chest, the flutter of butterflies never resting in his gut.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up, okay?” Akira sighed happily, kissing Yusuke’s lips gently before rolling out of bed. Yusuke barely even moved, but Akira didn’t mind, quickly getting into the bathroom to take a quick shower. When they had finished, the both of them had immediately collapsed together, exhaustion finally catching up to them quickly. When he emerged from the bathroom in a robe, he saw Yusuke sitting up in bed, blinking blearily at him. Smiling fondly, Akira savoured the ache in his muscles as he walked towards him, giving him a soft kiss as he slid back into bed next to him to wipe him down gently with a wet towel. When he was done, he helped Yusuke back into his kimono, and helped him sit back down on the bed.

Yusuke looked groggy, unable to speak as he just watched Akira clean him up, and with a glance at the wall clock, Akira realised they had run out of time to talk.

Somehow, though, he wasn't worried—not when they knew each other now, more intimately than Akira had ever hoped. They could talk about this more outside, maybe when Yusuke dropped by Rafflesia to get flowers for his mother’s shrine.

For now, Yusuke looked like he needed the rest. It was time for him to go, and this time Akira was fine with it.

This time, when Yusuke left, the promise to see each other again was now a blood oath.

As if on cue, there was Iwai’s knock on the door, and Akira turned to see the man step into the room, Arsene right behind him. Akira beamed at the two men, and Arsene cocked an eyebrow at the groggy Yusuke leaning against Akira’s side.

“So this time you fucked, did you?” Iwai deadpanned.

“ _Sacrebleu._ ” Arsene breathed, though he had a small grin on his face.

“He knows me now.” Akira said, “We can talk outside The Metaverse. He—” his eyes welled with happy tears. “He loves me back.”

Arsene smiled fondly at that, and Iwai shook his head exasperatedly.

“Okay, break it up. I'm getting the kid home.” He said, and with little effort, he heaved Yusuke onto his feet, and together, the both of them headed out the door. Akira and Arsene watched them leave, and when they heard the door shut, the Frenchman turned to look at Akira, who sighed happily and lay back down in bed.

He chuckled fondly, shaking his head as he sat down next to Akira on the bed and stroked his hair.

“You have never looked happier.” He said, and Akira hummed.

“Yusuke loves me back.”

“About that.” Arsene crossed his leg over the other, and looked down at his companion. “Doesn’t this seem… odd, to you? How young Yusuke would simply give up a night he promised to use to talk to you for making love?” Akira looked up at him with a pout on his face.

“Are you jealous?”

“Absolutely not.” Arsene huffed, “While I shower you with affection and praise, Akira, know that it is my usual friendly banter, and not—”

“Romantically charged in any way, right.” Akira cut him off, “Just a gentleman thief who loves his friends a little more than is deemed socially acceptable for simple friendship. I know you.” He sat up, huffing as he crossed his arms. “Just—Arsene, don’t rain on my parade. Just tonight, okay? I wanna ride the high.”

“If you insist.” Arsene lowered his head, but he frowned anyway. “On other things, I didn’t know Leviathan was an ally of ours.”

“Oh, Sae-san?” Akira looked at him, and the thief laughed.

“I see!” he nodded, shaking his head as he chortled. “I should keep my distance from her beyond The Metaverse, then. I wouldn’t want Mademoiselle Moirae’s prediction coming true.”

Akira gave him a catty sidelong glance. “What’d Chihaya-san say?”

“That I would get caught helping a dear friend out.”

The prostitute’s eyes widened at him, and Arsene nodded gravely. “I don’t suppose her predictions are dead accurate?”

“No, fate can be changed.” Akira shook his head. “Just keep your wits about you, and you’ll be fine.”

“Understandable.” Arsene nodded, before getting up. “Well, it is about time for me to retire as well, and no doubt Morgana would want to sleep at home with you next to him.” Akira nodded as he watched Arsene approached the entrance alcove to leave. “Oh, and Akira.”

“Yeah?” Akira stopped in the middle of getting out of bed to see Arsene’s eyes soften on him.

“I will be going to Sumaru City for some business very soon.” Akira’s eyes widened, and he deflated, back slouching as he gaped at the thief. “A friend seeks help in obtaining something he had lost, and while he is working with the police, he finds their efforts… lacking.”

“The… police.”

“Would you like me to have a look at how your uncle is doing?”

Akira shrunk back, wrapping his arms around himself, and like that, he looked infinitesimally younger, like a frightened child, afraid of learning something he already didn’t want to know. The younger man peered at him with wide eyes over his knees, and Arsene patiently waited for him to speak.

It took Akira long moment to say anything, but Arsene didn’t rush him.

“I’d… like to know, yeah.” He said quietly. “I haven’t heard about him for so long.”

“Your Aunt Maya, too?”

Akira shrunk further. “Yeah. Morgana really likes her.”

“Very well.” Arsene nodded, and turned to leave.

“Arsene—”

The thief turned to look back at Akira, who had tears welling in his eyes. “Tell him—” he hesitated, and tried again. “Tell Uncle Katsuya that we—”

“Yes?”

Something seemed to shatter in Akira’s eyes, and he hung his head.

“Never mind.” He said. “Don’t let him see you.”

Arsene’s expression fell, but Akira shook his head.

“Just… look at how he’s doing. And… give him a purple hyacinth.” He said, and the thief deflated.

Purple hyacinths— _I’m sorry._

He returned to Akira’s side to press a soft kiss to his temple. “Find a way to do it without him seeing you, okay?”

“That will be difficult,” Arsene replied, but he offered Akira a small smile. “Senior Inspector Suou is quite the astute man, but I will manage.”

Akira mirrored his smile, and slowly got up. “Well, it’s time for me and Morgana to head home, Arsene. Night.”

“Good night, Akira.” He smiled back at the younger man. “May our good fortune continue to persist.”

* * *

Goro Akechi sat back in his seat, peering down at his laptop through a sleepy left eye and a swollen right eye, and he smiled slowly as he watched the man named Arsene step out of Akira’s room from one of the camera feed screens.

His body ached fiercely, his blood throbbed in places that was tender, and he knew his lip was cut and bleeding. This was going to be much harder to explain at the TV station when it came to makeup, but fat wads of cash hushed anyone, and Akechi had learned to tell lies with the tongue of an angel.

Maybe he could make up a story about how he fought off some hooligans the night before, while he was chasing a lead, or something. Who knew.

For now, though, there was work to be done.

He turned off the live feed as Akira got to work on getting ready to go home, nursing a melting ice pack between numb fingers against his temple, and moved on to the recorded footage he had. He clicked his tongue when he received a pop-up message that the disc memory for the camera recordings were full—Arsene’s face went on unrecorded, for another day.

Well, Akechi had intended on recording only one thing.

“ _A-ah, Yusuke—y-yes!_ ”

Akira was a vocal lover if his client wanted him to be, but Akechi had never seen him so… _raw_ before. Akira was never like this when he and Akechi had sex—when he had sex with anyone, so receptive and passionate.

It made an ugly sensation stab into his gut, twisting painfully, and Akechi could imagine his innards spilling out of a messy cut across his abdomen in a messy slice, a knife-cut made by a child on a sealed envelope, clumsy hands coupled with a dull knife.

His smile widened into some semblance of a triumphant smirk as he reviewed the footage, each and every single second of Akira and Yusuke’s lovemaking. Beside his laptop on the table, a capsule lay open and empty on a folded piece of tissue paper. He jumped when he nearly knocked it over the edge, but he quickly stopped himself to look at it, and he giggled softly.

Tae Takemi was nothing short of a medical genius. He knew how well it worked for Akira, the drug that turned him into the cockslut of The Metaverse, willing and pliant under even the most disgusting man—he had seen its effects firsthand.

And now, he had seen how well it worked on another person—on Yusuke Kitagawa, and just as he hoped, it worked like a charm.

“Poor little fox.” He chuckled, smiling cheerfully as he began to piece the videos together in a coherent video. There was something depraved about preparing blackmail as he did evidence for his daytime detective work—it felt like editing a porn movie, and the thought of showing it to Yusuke somewhere public made something squirm and tingle inside him.

Schadenfreude bubbled in his throat, burning like bile and sparkling like champagne.

“Time to say goodbye to my Joker.”

* * *

Café Leblanc wasn't open for the public until 6 in the morning, but the door was already open by 3. Akira stepped into his home, smiling happily as he carried his sleeping brother in his arms, balancing his bag on his shoulder. Beside him, Ryuji carried the rest of his things, and Mona’s wicker basket, and together, the two friends headed upstairs into the attic.

Like routine, Ryuji set Akira's things down on the table in front of the bannister facing the stairs, before setting Mona’s basket down next to it. Akira busied himself with tucking Morgana into bed— _his_ bed, tonight, with the full intention of cuddling his brother for that night.

“Hey,” Ryuji said quietly when things settled, and Akira looked at him. “Heard from so-and-so.” He beamed at Akira. “He likes you back.”

“Yeah.” Akira slowly smiled back at his best friend. “I'm so…” he blushed. “I feel like I'm on top of the world.”

“Yeah, it was like that with me and Ann.” Ryuji chuckled. “Well, still is.” He pulled Akira into a one-armed hug. “I'm so glad for you, man. Like, for real.”

“Thanks, Ryuji.” Akira leaned against him, sighing deeply. “Oh, and thanks for helping me get my stuff home.”

“No big deal.” Ryuji shook his head. “So, uh… you gonna talk to him again soon?”

“Yeah.” Akira nodded. “Yusuke’s in deep trouble with his teacher, I gotta save him.”

Ryuji gave him an exhausted smile, and sat him down on the bed next to the still-sleeping Morgana. “Dude. That's fine, but don't forget—you need saving too.” He said. “I know we _all_ do, but in my opinion, you need it most of all of us.”

He paused.

“Okay, maybe Ann—” Akira’s snorting laughter put a wider smile on Ryuji’s face.

“Nah. No one deserves it more than the other. We _all_ need saving.” He said. “But we damn well are gonna do it ourselves.”

Akira nodded.

“It's a promise.” He said determinedly, and Ryuji beamed at him.

“I'll come see you later tonight.” He said, patting Akira’s back. “And when I see that Yusuke guy again, I'll have to give him a good drink or two, from me.”

Akira chuckled. “Ryuji, you don't drink.”

“Yeah, I know, but you should've seen the guy—he downed a flute of champagne like no one’s business!” He snickered. “Anyway, see ya.”

“Later.” Akira nodded, and saw him to the door. When he was back in the attic, Akira made his way to his bed to cuddle up against Morgana under the covers. The little boy woke up slightly, looking up to see Akira, and he smiled down at him gently. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's fine.” Morgana mumbled, hugging his brother's chest before promptly falling back asleep. Akira smiled and stroked his hair, kissing his forehead before turning to the window, where underneath a hanging windchime was a broken wristwatch, and an empty lighter.

He picked up the watch to inspect the face in the dim light—stopped forever at 5:35. Regardless, he put it on, before picking up the lighter to trace the engravings with his thumb.

_The most important things can't be seen with the eyes._

Akira deflated, and hugged it close to himself, closing his fist around it as he shut his eyes.

He missed them.

Morgana stirred again, and he looked up to see the lighter in Akira's hand. “You looking at them again?” He mumbled, and Akira laughed sadly.

“I was gonna tell them that Yusuke likes me back.”

“Oh, he does?” Morgana’s smile widened. “I'm glad. Papa would be glad too.”

Akira laughed softly, and he let himself believe that somehow, the wristwatch squeezed his wrist the way his father used to.

“Dad would probably demand to see him.” Akira continued, and Morgana giggled. “Look him up in the police archives to check if he'd been up to any funny business.”

He clicked the zippo lighter in his hand, and Morgana sighed.

“Hey, Akira?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss them.”

Somewhere in his chest, Akira felt his heart break a little, and he laughed quietly.

“Yeah… me too.”

The brothers fell silent, until sleep took them into the land of dreams.

That twilight before dawn, Akira dreamt of purring motorcycles, warm sunshine and the technicolor burst of flowers like slow-spinning kaleidoscopes. He dreamt of a couple so in love, a pair of young boys in warm, loving embraces, the distant echo of a family life he would never get back.

He missed them, he thought, as the imagery burned down in an instant to form a newspaper headline he would never forget.

_POLICE DETECTIVE, PARTNER, MURDERED IN HOME BY UNKNOWN ASSAILANTS._

Akira woke up drenched in a cold sweat, tears rolling down his face. He looked up, wide-eyed at the ceiling, and threw his arm over his eyes.

“Just a little longer.” He said shakily. “Just… a little longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 22 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> But first, other matters—Akira’s first direct connection into the yakuza had just walked into a salon, and he followed suit to watch the young man take a seat in front of a mirror.
> 
> “Oh, you’re Goro Akechi!” The teller, a young, pretty-eyed girl gasped gently as he approached her, and he gave her a beguiling smile, hushing her with a finger pressed to his lips. He gave her a wink, and she flushed, nodding silently as he came to a stop in front of her.
> 
> “That recent customer that walked in. Who is he?” He asked sweetly, and the girl nodded.
> 
> “Oh, Sena Hifune-san.” She said, reading his name off his order sheet. “A-are you chasing a lead, Akechi-kun?” The girl asked conspiratorially, leaning closer to him to let him hear her lowered tone.
> 
> “I am, yes.” He nodded, “But don’t worry—Hifune-san has no crime committed.” He pulled out some money from his wallet and set it down on the counter. “This is for whatever he will have done.” 
> 
> “Wh-what? Really?” The girl gaped at him, and he nodded. 
> 
> “He doesn’t know it yet, but he will be important to my investigations. I simply wish to thank him for his services in advance.” He said, smiling. “Oh, by the way—Chihoko-san?” He read her name off her tag, and she nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear shyly. 
> 
> “Yeah?” She asked.
> 
> “Please, don’t tell him it’s from me.” Akechi winked at her, and he could tell she swooned slightly. “It’ll be our little secret, alright?”
> 
> “O-of course!” She nodded vigorously, and he chuckled.
> 
> “Thank you so much.” He nodded, “Well, I must go—I have another lead I’m chasing right now, so time is of the essence.”
> 
> “Busy as always, Akechi-kun.” She sighed, “Good luck! I hope you get the bad guys!”
> 
> Akechi gave her a small wave before striding out of the salon.
> 
> “Now,” he chuckled darkly, “To catch the fox in a well-laid trap.”


	22. le coupable innocent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the innocent culprit)
> 
> The world came to a sudden, cold stop, unforgiving and silent, and for that moment, it felt like there were no eyes on him, no sight that could see him, and no one heard the deafening sound of his heart shattering into pieces. Every breath stung with the shards that dug into his lungs, and his eyes burned with tears that clawed their way out like cinders and smoke.
> 
> Akechi’s words echoed back at him like a haunting wail. 
> 
> _“He'll just use you to scratch an itch.”_
> 
> Akira shuddered, and he looked down at the rose Yusuke gave him. 
> 
> _“All men are pigs.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo it's time to Die™ y'all it only starts nosediving from here
> 
> if you have questions regarding the past of this au that isn't spoilery, or have any suggestions for a spinoff i can include as a bundle (usually with Friday updates) let me know in the comments below! 
> 
> also finally introducing my baby boy sena hifune properly, please give him a warm welcome ~~he may or may not survive until the end who knows~~ , if you're interested about him [here's a thread on twitter explaining him and his relations at least in the canon universe](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/902116149046919168). i hope you all like him he's an absolute dumbfuck and is a pretty much accurate depiction of myself lmao☆
> 
> also, just to clarify: i love goro to bits. there's a reason why he's being a traitorous assbutt rn. 
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

Yusuke woke up with a pounding headache. He sat up, blinking blearily, and he had never felt more grateful that he didn't have Saturday classes. He checked the time—9:14 in the morning. Madarame was already at the exhibit, and since he hadn't woken Yusuke up, it probably meant that he wasn't needed for that day.

And for the better, he thought grumpily, staggering to get out of bed to see he had been at least undressed, his kimono hanging over the back of his chair. He didn't know why his back stung so much, but that was probably because of a bad sleeping position. He took a quick shower, got dressed and headed outside to find breakfast—again, Madarame made him something, and it made his heart clench painfully in his chest at the thought of it.

He shook his head and tucked into his breakfast. Ravenously he finished it quickly, and he began to think about the night before as he cleaned up.

Oddly, he couldn't remember anything after he got into the elevator with Skull and Lune. Everything was a blur after Lune handed him the bottled water, and worry sank in his gut. What if he and Joker had talked about something important? He needed to remember.

Yusuke shook his head to clear it. Maybe some painkillers first, since it was pounding.

He headed into the bathroom to find the appropriate pills, and after he took them with some water, he found himself wandering over to his mother’s shrine. There were now two vases next to her picture—one was plain white ceramic, and the other was a makeshift vase from the most aesthetically-pleasing jar he could find. He sat down next to her, and inspected the vases.

The ceramic one had slightly wilted white lilies, and the jar had Akira’s confession bouquet, somewhat dried out at that point, and Yusuke blinked at it.

And, of course, there was Akira, too. Akira loved him back. Yusuke didn't know if he managed to tell Joker that.

He glanced at the clock on the wall—he didn't even know if Akira was in that early in the day, but Yusuke wanted to see him, and soon. He wanted to talk about the bouquet, the strange man he saw kissing Akira, and wanting to save him. He wanted to just… talk. To be with Akira more. To get to know him even more than just his face, his name, three jobs and the name of a city in the Kansai region, Sumaru.

He slowly got up and shook his head. He could afford waiting a little longer. Chores would help him pass the time to get to Akira’s shift.

* * *

“Hey, kid.”

The young man sighed, running his hands through mussed black hair, and made his way to the counter to frown at his employer, one hand on his hip, the other holding a broom.

“It’s _Sena_ , Iwai-san.” He sighed. “Sena Hifune. Can’t you call me by my name?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Iwai waved his hand, leaning closer to him over the counter. “You said you were looking for… job opportunities, right?”

“Yeah?” The young man cocked his head. “I mean, I’ve got college bills to pay, and I’m not on any scholarships, so…”

“Heard the same thing from Kaoru.” Iwai cocked the lollipop stick in his mouth, nodding. “Listen—you up for an extra job? It’ll pay well.” He said, and Hifune lit up at that.

“Hell, yeah, sir!” he nodded excitedly. “I-I mean, I’m not leaving Untouchable anytime soon, but yeah! I’ll take it!”

Iwai gave him a pointed look from underneath the brim of his hat. “This’ll be a little dangerous though. You up for it?”

Hifune huffed. “I’m an aspiring novelist. I’ll do _anything_ to write _everything!_ ”

“You could get killed.”

Hifune shook his head. “I’m here for a good time, not a long time. Any other perks besides fat stacks?” He grinned, “Like, I dunno, what’s the employer like?”

“ _That’s_ what you’re worried about?” Iwai snorted, shaking his head. “Not even considering if this is anything legal of the sort?”

“I dunno, Iwai-san,” Hifune shrugged, “I saw a _real_ Colt in the back, and that’s pretty illegal.”

Iwai cocked an eyebrow at him, and Hifune grinned. “I read up on guns a while back for a fic I wrote in high school, and a batchmate from back in high school had a dad who owned a few good models.” He blushed slightly, “I looked for that orange cap in front of airsoft guns but it wasn’t there, and the manufacturer was real… I know you make super good airsoft guns but that one felt… different.”

Iwai gaped at him, and Hifune lit up. “D-did I pass the test?”

“Test?” Iwai echoed, “This ain’t some—” He held himself back, shaking his head. “Y’know what, I think you’ll do just fine.” He laughed dryly. “Your employer will be what people call the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse.”

“Crown… Jewel?” Hifune echoed, and Iwai nodded.

“Basically, they’re pretty fuckin’ beautiful. That your kinda shit, kid?”

Hifune lit up. “Gorgeous people? I’m gonna work for someone gorgeous enough to be called a Crown Jewel? Sign me the hell up!”

“You’d better not regret this.” Iwai snickered, shaking his head. “Alright, listen close, kid—I’m going to introduce you to the Hashiba group—they’re a Yakuza family, and it just so happens my old brother needs a new assistant.”

Hifune didn’t seem to lose the lustre of his grin. Belatedly, Iwai thought perhaps he had hired someone a little _too_ strange for his liking, but he’d been Kaoru’s senpai back in Kosei, and Kaoru trusted him.

Anyway, Akira asked him for this, and he needed all the help he could get—the least Akira could do was keep this crazy kid alive, somehow. Iwai trusted him enough for that.

“That said, I think you’ll have to look a little less… put together than that.” He gestured at Hifune’s entirety, and the young man pouted.

“What, I’m supposed to look like a delinquent?” He asked, and Iwai gave up trying to ask questions about how his logic seemed to run.

“Yes.” He replied, “Come see me later tonight so I can introduce you to Tsuda. You’d better not look like some goddamn goody-two shoes later, got it?”

“Got it, sir!” Hifune cheered, giving him a messy salute. “I won’t let them down, sir!”

“You better not.” Iwai sighed. “Lots of lives are gonna depend on what we’ll do.”

* * *

Outside, Akechi leaned away from the door, tucking the microphone he had slipped through a gap in the door back into the inner pocket of his coat. He pulled his earphones off, neatly folding them and securing them with a black tuxedo-cat designed cord holder before putting it in the same pocket. Frowning to himself, he stepped away from the door to keep himself from being seen, and he strode out of the alleyway and into the central street. He stood nonchalantly by the crepe stand, waiting for the young part-timer to step out of the store, and when he did, he carefully followed the young man to the underground mall.

He spotted Akira at his daytime job—Rafflesia, today, like always, and he smiled slightly.

Today, he should keep an eye out for the young Fox as well. If The Metaverse’s records were correct, Fox was Ichiryusai Madarame’s young adopted son and student, Yusuke Kitagawa, and if his information didn’t fail him, Yusuke came to Rafflesia at this time of the week.

And if he did, it was time for him to spring his trap.

But first, other matters—Akira’s first direct connection into the yakuza had just walked into a salon, and he followed suit to watch the young man take a seat in front of a mirror.

“Oh, you’re Goro Akechi!” The teller, a young, pretty-eyed girl gasped gently as he approached her, and he gave her a beguiling smile, hushing her with a finger pressed to his lips. He gave her a wink, and she flushed, nodding silently as he came to a stop in front of her.

“That recent customer that walked in. Who is he?” He asked sweetly, and the girl nodded.

“Oh, Sena Hifune-san.” She said, reading his name off his order sheet. “A-are you chasing a lead, Akechi-kun?” The girl asked conspiratorially, leaning closer to him to let him hear her lowered tone.

“I am, yes.” He nodded, “But don’t worry—Hifune-san has no crime committed.” He pulled out some money from his wallet and set it down on the counter. “This is for whatever he will have done.”

“Wh-what? Really?” The girl gaped at him, and he nodded.

“He doesn’t know it yet, but he will be important to my investigations. I simply wish to thank him for his services in advance.” He said, smiling. “Oh, by the way—Chihoko-san?” He read her name off her tag, and she nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear shyly.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Please, don’t tell him it’s from me.” Akechi winked at her, and he could tell she swooned slightly. “It’ll be our little secret, alright?”

“O-of course!” She nodded vigorously, and he chuckled.

“Thank you so much.” He nodded, “Well, I must go—I have another lead I’m chasing right now, so time is of the essence.”

“Busy as always, Akechi-kun.” She sighed, “Good luck! I hope you get the bad guys!”

Akechi gave her a small wave before striding out of the salon.

“Now,” he chuckled darkly, “To catch the fox in a well-laid trap.”

* * *

“Kurusu-kun, you look positively blooming.” Hanasaki giggled, watching her part timer busy himself with almost every little chore in the store. He had a wide smile on his face, and the bouquets he made for customers were all bright and beautiful, happy like he was that day. Akira beamed at her, shrugging as he continued to work, and Hanasaki’s smile widened. “Did something good happen?”

“Yeah.” He replied. “Remember the artist who comes by for white lilies?”

“Ah, that student of Madarame.” Hanasaki nodded. “You like him, right?”

Akira blushed. “Yeah.”

Hanasaki melted, fondly smiling. “How is he?”

“He… likes me back.” Akira said, and she lit up.

“Oh, Kurusu-kun! I'm so glad!” She cheered, squeezing his hands happily in hers. “You've sorted out things with the other gentleman? Lupin-san?”

“We're just friends.” Akira snorted, laughing softly. “But… yeah. Yusuke and I, we're… definitely something.”

“I'm glad, I'm glad.” She nodded. “You hadn't been looking so great lately, so I was a little worried about you.”

Akira gave her a sheepish smile, ducking his head as he twisted a lock of his hair between his fingers. “Sorry I worried you, Hanasaki-san.”

“It’s fine.” She said, and she jumped when she saw someone over Akira’s shoulder. She lit up, and clapped her hands happily as Akira cocked his head at her, before turning to look at what she was looking at.

Yusuke stepped out of the escalators of the subway, and when their eyes met, Akira’s cheeks turned dark red, growing darker as Yusuke made a beeline for Rafflesia.

“He’s coming, he’s coming!” Hanasaki excitedly said. “I’ll go hide out in the back, Kurusu-kun,” she smacked his back a little too painfully, but Akira barely flinched. “Knock it out of the park!”

“R-right!” Akira nodded hastily, and he straightened himself up, making his way over to the front as Yusuke approached him, wide-eyed and as red as he was. Akira’s heart fluttered—Yusuke was as flustered as he was, and it made his stomach do somersaults. They needed to talk about the night before, in The Metaverse. Yusuke seemed exhausted after sex, and Akira hadn’t pushed to talk with him about trying to help him. Now, though, that Yusuke knew who he was, and The Metaverse was a secret they now shared. “Y-Yusuke! H-hello!”

“A-Akira.” The artist stammered, somehow managing to keep their eyes locked as he came to a stop right in front of him, and Akira realised he was holding the red rose he gave him a few days back. It was slightly wilted, missing a few petals here and there and the stem was shorter, but Akira knew what that meant.

_I love you._

His eyes widened, and Yusuke shyly handed Akira the rose. “I-I do believe… I ought to give this to you, as well. I-I mean the same.”

Akira felt tears prickling his eyes. “Oh, Yusuke…” He sighed happily, taking the rose, and Yusuke’s smile softened at him. He laughed weakly, wiping at the corners of his eyes, before shaking his head fondly. “So… did you, um…” He stole a glance at Hanasaki, and looked back at Yusuke. He couldn’t let Hanasaki know he and Yusuke were up to things in The Metaverse, but he couldn’t just not talk about the night before.

“Y-yes?” Yusuke nodded nervously.

“Did anything… big happen last night?” He asked slowly, twisting a lock of his hair nervously, and he hoped Yusuke understood what he meant. “Like, um… maybe some good fortune came in or something?”

Yusuke’s eyes widened at Akira, and much to Akira’s horror, it looked like the colour drained from his face.

“Y-Yusuke?”

“N-no, absolutely not.” Yusuke replied suddenly, “I-I,” he looked around nervously, suddenly fearful, and Akira’s eyes widened in panic. “No. I… I’m involved with nothing of the sort.”

Akira’s world screeched to a halt. “You…”

Yusuke shook his head. “I… I had a terrible night’s sleep. Apologies,” he winced, holding his head. “About last night… I’d rather forget it, actually.”

No.

Akira’s heart slowed down in horror, and his veins froze over.

“It was… harrowing, for the most part, and then… a blur.” Yusuke continued, unaware of Akira’s growing shock. “I fear I may have done something I’d regret.”

Regret.

_“I can’t get enough of you.”_

No, it can’t be…

_“Akira, I want you.”_

Akira’s mind slowed down to recall a memory that frayed at the edges, like worn cloth at the ends of an old, old canvas. His father’s hands wove little flowers into his hair, and he had giggled softly as they talked about everything and nothing, and how the world was so shiny and perfect—and broken and dull.

_“One day, Akira, maybe you’ll have your heart broken. Maybe someone will put it together, and make it whole—or bigger than you ever thought it could be.”_

_“Like you and Dad?”_

A laugh, the soft rustle of flower petals.

_“Like me and your father. He broke my heart, too, you know. But he also put it together.”_

_“That doesn’t sound… great.”_

_“No, it wasn’t. Not for some time. I thought I would never recover from it.”_

Akira pulled a face. _“What was that like?”_

_“Like the end of the world. Time stopped, and you could hear nothing but the sound of your heart breaking.”_

And by God, he was right—but it felt infinitely worse.

The world came to a sudden, cold stop, unforgiving and silent, and for that moment, it felt like there were no eyes on him, no sight that could see him, and no one heard the deafening sound of his heart shattering into pieces. Every breath stung with the shards that dug into his lungs, and his eyes burned with tears that clawed their way out like cinders and smoke.

Akechi’s words echoed back at him like a haunting wail.

_“He'll just use you to scratch an itch.”_

Akira shuddered, and he looked down at the rose Yusuke gave him.  

_“All men are pigs.”_

He hated it when Akechi was right.

“I-I'm sorry, I have to go.” Akira stammered, yanking off his apron, much to the shock of Yusuke and Hanasaki. “I-I'm—I—” he looked up at Yusuke’s wide eyes, so clear and _honest_ , and god, he had been such a good judge of character.

What went _wrong,_ damn it?

He shook his head, and before he could let Yusuke see the first teardrops fall, he hurried away.

Yusuke made a move to follow him, only to have his wrist caught by a black gloved hand. He turned around to see—of all people—the _Ace Detective himself,_ Goro Akechi, smiling at him. Yusuke gaped at him, but the brunet let him go, now reassured Yusuke wouldn't run away.

“Apologies,” he said, “Have I intruded on something private?” Akechi bent down to pick up the rose Akira dropped, and Yusuke’s stomach sank.

“Well, yes.” He deadpanned.

“Oh,” Akechi’s eyes widened, “I had meant to call your attention while you were at the station square, but you couldn't hear me.”

Yusuke blinked at him. “Whatever would you need me for?”

Akechi chuckled. “Wait—where are my manners? I'm Goro Akechi, a police liaison for my university, though I suppose you would know me better as the detective who appears a lot on TV.”

Yusuke did. “Ah, yes. I am—”

“Yusuke Kitagawa, correct?” Akechi nodded, “You are exactly the man I'm looking for.”

“I-I am?”

“Yes.” Akechi looked at the still-shocked Hanasaki at the back of the flower shop. “Though, I suppose some goodbyes are in order first—I'd like to have a word with you, if you're available.” His smile felt familiar, superficial and sickeningly pleasant, and Yusuke's stomach turned nervously.

“Y-yes, alright.” Yusuke said, and immediately regretted it. “Apologies, Hanasaki-san. A-allow me to collect my thoughts. I'll sort things out with Akira later.”

The woman looked at him pleadingly, and nodded.

Yusuke turned to Akechi, who smiled just that little bit sharper, and Yusuke wanted to _run._

“Excellent.” Akechi said. “Now, please, allow me to treat you to some dinner while we talk. There's a lovely cafe near the station, though it's not my personal favourite.”

“Not a favourite?”

“It's conveniently close to the station,” Akechi explained. “However, my favourite is a small place in Yongen-Jaya. They have wonderful coffee and curry there.”

Yusuke couldn't focus on the small talk as they walked. Something felt… _wrong,_ and Ohya’s words suddenly flashed through his mind.

_“Someone's trying to pin us down right now and whoever that is, they're some person with a rank in the police.”_

The police.

Yusuke had to be careful.

He eyed Akechi warily as they got out of the station together.

He had a feeling things were about to go sour, and he didn't like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 23 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> “You seem troubled.” Akechi said, snapping Yusuke out of his trance, and the artist jumped slightly in his seat. The brunet chuckled behind his fist daintily. “Was the Salisbury of a poor quality?”
> 
> “A-ah, no.” Yusuke shook his head. “It was… delicious. Thank you.”
> 
> “You're welcome.” Akechi nodded, and suddenly the kindness fled from his smile as it sharpened into a predatory smirk. “Now, let's get down to business, shall we, _Fox?_ ”
> 
> Yusuke gaped at him, rearing back in shock as Akechi chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he took his phone out to show a paused video—shot inside Joker's penthouse suite. The artist’s blood ran cold. This Akechi…
> 
> “I have to congratulate you, again, on that wonderful victory last night. Of course, I helped out, though my help couldn't have been the only way you won that game.”
> 
> The pieces fell together frighteningly quickly. 
> 
> Goro Akechi—poster boy of the Tokyo Police Department—was _Crow._


	23. les choses š'effondrent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (things fall apart)
> 
> “I dunno…” he said quietly, and all the adults turned to look at him. “Akira, you're an excellent judge of character.” He took his brother’s hand, and squeezed it. “Do you really think Yusuke would do something like this?”
> 
> Akira withered, looking at his brother with a pained expression on his face, and dryly, he echoed Akechi’s words to him. 
> 
> “All men are pigs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hifune sena is a goroboy and i want to die, pass it on
> 
> the first scene feels exactly like that time goro shot me in the face in-game. i'm so in love with him.
> 
>  **edit:** minor changes. man, the formatting on HTML just freaking broke on this chapter. 
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes! ~~to people looking for that sweet p2 tatsujun content, it's next chapter. congrats~~

“Thank you for the meal.”

Yusuke had little to no plans of having dinner that night—had no idea how things would go after he went to see Akira, really, but he never thought the night would end with him having dinner with the famous Goro Akechi, television’s darling Ace Detective. His mind was still reeling about Akira—he had returned his feelings, hadn't he, and he was _sure_ Akira had been happy about it.

But then Akira mentioned something he shouldn't have known.

_“Maybe some good fortune came in or something?”_

Dear mother in heaven. Akira knew about The Metaverse, and he knew it was _him_ in there.

With _Joker._

Did Akira think he was in love with Joker? Did Akira hate him for gambling?

“You seem troubled.” Akechi said, snapping Yusuke out of his trance, and the artist jumped slightly in his seat. The brunet chuckled behind his fist daintily. “Was the Salisbury of a poor quality?”

“A-ah, no.” Yusuke shook his head. “It was… delicious. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Akechi nodded, and suddenly the kindness fled from his smile as it sharpened into a predatory smirk. “Now, let's get down to business, shall we, _Fox?_ ”

Yusuke gaped at him, rearing back in shock as Akechi chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he took his phone out to show a paused video—shot inside Joker's penthouse suite. The artist’s blood ran cold. This Akechi…

“I have to congratulate you, again, on that wonderful victory last night. Of course, I helped out, though my help couldn't have been the only way you won that game.”

The pieces fell together frighteningly quickly.

Goro Akechi—poster boy of the Tokyo Police Department—was _Crow_.

“Crow?” Yusuke hissed, and Akechi’s grin widened. “You—”

“But oh, what do we have here?” Akechi continued, and he played the muted video on his phone. Yusuke’s eyes widened as he watched Joker mount him, and he sank down on his cock with a soundless moan.

That was…

Yusuke’s head began to pound. “What—this is an outrage,” he began, but Akechi laughed at him.

“Oh, Kitagawa-san,” he said, grin saccharine and cruel. “You don't remember a thing, do you? Poor, poor Joker. He was so happy, you know. Smiling so beautifully, riding you so passionately…” he let out a humourless laugh, resting his chin on his hand daintily. “Only for you to forget? Tsk, tsk.”

“I…” Yusuke couldn't tear his eyes away from him and Joker, _having sex._ He couldn't see Joker’s face, but the room, the burned and bruised body—they told him everything. “Everything has been a blur. I don't—”

He jolted, as the memory came back to him.

_He lifted his champagne flute in a small toast. “A toast to a pleasurable night with Joker, well-fought and well-deserved.”_

_“To Joker,” Yusuke replied, and took a sip of the champagne. Much to his surprise, unlike before, it was sweeter, smoothly rolling over his tongue and down his throat like the caress of silk, and before he realised it, he had downed the drink._

“The champagne.”

Akechi’s smirk widened, and there he was—Crow, the veteran gambler, the owner’s boy. Prince of The Metaverse.

“Hm, yes.”

“You drugged me—I—I had _sex._ ” Yusuke's world was spinning. “With _Joker._ ” He clutched his head in horror. “It can't be…!”

“Oh, cry all you will, but it _is_.” Akechi leered. “Lucky little Akira Kurusu, running away from you dirty little cheat, Kitagawa-san.” He lifted the rose he picked up earlier, smirking as he pressed it to his lips. “You don't deserve him.”

Yusuke jolted at the mention of Akira’s name.

“Akira…”

“You're exactly like your foster father, aren't you?” Akechi inspected his gloves nonchalantly, but the young man was smirking. “A filthy, lustful man. A gambling cheat.”

“N-no, I…”

“Oh, and you're on a scholarship right now, aren't you?” Akechi pressed on, and Yusuke clamped his lips shut. The brunet chuckled darkly. “I know all about you, Kitagawa-san. I'm the owner’s boy, I have access to all membership files. I looked you up.”

Akechi leaned closer to him, beautiful in his own frightening way, and Yusuke felt like a worm pinned by the crow’s hungry gaze.

“Can you imagine the _scandal_ it would cause if this naughty little video came out?” He purred. “Your reputation… your scholarship… your _teacher,_ ah.” Akechi sighed happily, “Poor old man. He might just die of a heart attack. Or grief. If the shock won't kill him, maybe the blow to his reputation will.”

Yusuke’s world crashed down around him, and his shoulders slumped.

“What do you want from me?” He asked, defeated.

Akechi lifted Yusuke’s chin to look into his eyes. His expression sharpened from fake sweetness to unforgiving anger.

“If you ever show your _mug_ in my casino ever again, I will do more than just release this video. I can give you a fate much worse than death. You'll be begging for someone to kill you by the end of your wits.”

Yusuke could only look back at him in shock.

Akechi’s glare dropped into a pleasant smile again. “That is all.”

“Wh-what do you—”

“Never. Come. Back.” Akechi punctuated his words with vicious stabs into his food leftovers, and Yusuke winced as all was left was an unidentifiable pile of mush. “Stop winning against my master. Stop seeing _my_ Joker.”

Yusuke's heart sank. He had wanted to save Joker, but…

His hands were tied. Reporting Akechi to the police was like an ant facing off an eagle, and above all things, Yusuke had a promise he meant to keep.

_His mother squeezed his little hand gently, and he looked up at her with wide eyes._

_“Yu-chan,” she said, “I won't last very long in this world.”_

_“Mama?”_

_“When the day comes that I no longer can be with you, I want you to live. Live for me, as best as you can.”_

He promised her.

Yusuke lowered his head.

“Understood.”

“I'm glad we had this talk.” Akechi said cheerfully, as if they were agreeing on dinner again, and he hadn't just blackmailed Yusuke. He slipped the rose into the front pocket of his coat. “I hope we never have to meet again like this, Kitagawa-san.” He got up, leaving a few bills on the table. “This is more than enough for our dinner, so you can have something else too. I recommend their pancakes—perfectly fluffy and the syrup is just the right sweetness.”

He gave Yusuke a friendly nod, and the artist simply sat there numbly, unresponsive. Still, Akechi didn't mind, and strode away from the table.

When the detective was gone, Yusuke buried his face in his hands and sank down lower in his seat.

* * *

“That _bastard!_ That shitty, rat-ass bastard!”

Up in Akira’s room in Leblanc, their small group gathered around their leader, pillars of support in his time of need. Seated on the bed, Ann glowered at her boyfriend, squeezing Akira’s hand as he leaned against her shoulder, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Makoto gave Ryuji a withering look, seated on Akira's other side, hands firmly over Morgana’s ears, the boy sitting on her lap blinking confusedly up at her. Futaba, hunched over on a chair, scowled.

“Stupid Inari.” She snarled. “I'll look him up, and I'll ruin his stupid life. We're _so_ not helping him now, no way.”

“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” The young man seated on the sofa next to Morgana’s bed sighed, and Futaba huffed.

“You’re just too chicken to try it yourself, Mishima.”

Mishima sighed exasperatedly at her.

“No, don't.” Akira said softly. “Injustice is injustice. Yusuke is a victim too.”

“That doesn't make what he did to you okay!” Ann huffed. “He broke your heart, Akira. He used you!”

“I find it hard to say this, but it really looks like he's just like any other customer we have in The Metaverse.” Makoto said dejectedly, and Morgana deflated.

“I dunno…” he said quietly, and all the adults turned to look at him. “Akira, you're an excellent judge of character.” He took his brother’s hand, and squeezed it. “Do you really think Yusuke would do something like this?”

Akira withered, looking at his brother with a pained expression on his face, and dryly, he echoed Akechi’s words to him.

“All men are pigs.”

Makoto frowned, rubbing Akira’s back, and Ryuji sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I'm gonna beat the shit outta him the next time I see him.” He said darkly, and Makoto glared at him.

“Language.”

He shrunk back dejectedly. “Sorry, Makoto.”

“We’re gonna beat the heck out of him, then.” Futaba said, and Makoto sighed a little louder than necessary. Mishima gave her an apologetic smile.

“Do you really mean that?” Morgana asked, and on his lap, Mona blinked at Akira with wide, innocent eyes. Akira studied them—Morgana and Mona were like extensions of each other, he thought. They understood each other perfectly, and Akira wished somewhere deep inside his heart that he had someone like that for him.

He had hoped it was Yusuke, but the earlier rejection stung and throbbed like an open wound.

“I don't know.” He answered truthfully, and looked at the windowsill longingly, his eyes lingering on the wristwatch and lighter. He sighed, and straightened up. “Well, anyway. It's getting late. We should start heading to The Metaverse.”

Ann looked at him worriedly, and he did his best to smile at her.

“I'll be okay.” He said. “Just… gimme some time to get over it.”

He got up, patting Ann’s knee, and headed downstairs. The ones he left behind shared worried looks, and Makoto shook her head.

“C’mon, guys.” She said. “Let's get moving.”

* * *

Hifune didn’t really expect Iwai to outright _laugh_ at him when he saw he had bleached his hair blond— _“This is what delinquents look like, Iwai-san!”_ —but then again, he didn’t really expect to actually be introduced— _and somehow admitted_ —into the yakuza.

Well, this was _definitely_ going into a book.

Provided he made it out of there alive, but he trusted Iwai.

He trusted this Crown Jewel—because Iwai did.

He straightened up as best as he could, as he and a few other men got out of the car they got in half an hour ago, and when Hifune got out, his eyes widened to see that they stopped at the lobby of a rather expensive apartment building.

Still, he forced himself to stay calm, and he followed the rest of his fellows into the building and up the elevators. They came to a stop at a floor not too far from the top floor, and Hifune blinked at the corridor they exited out of.

“There’s only… three doors.” He couldn’t help saying, and an older man, around his late twenties, laughed, clapping him on the back.

“I know, right?” He guffawed. “The units here are huge. You should see the big boss’s.”

Iwai hadn’t told him who the _big boss_ was. Sure, there was the head of their faction, but Hifune had met him earlier, and the man was left behind long after Iwai left, leaving Hifune behind with the rest of the group he was with now.

“H-hey, um…” He began to say, but he stopped himself—he couldn’t ask dumb questions, Iwai had told him not to. They had all assumed that he knew about their conspiracy, and Hifune began to panic when the man cocked his head at him. “So, uh… how much is one, anyway?”

“A fuckin’ arm and leg!” another man suddenly laughed, slinging an arm over Hifune’s shoulders, and he almost heaved a sigh of relief at averting the crisis. “Don’t even start thinking about getting one, brother—hell, we can’t even afford the Crown Jewel for a night!”

Again, the Crown Jewel. Somehow, this Crown Jewel wanted him to join the yakuza, for some reason.

The first door opened, and—of all people—Goro Akechi stepped out. Hifune’s eyes widened. He loved watching him on TV, and now, he was here? Was he going to fight them? _All_ of them?

“You’re all late.” He said flatly, and Hifune resisted the urge to flinch.

“Sorry, Akechi-san.” One of them said, “Traffic was bad.”

Akechi scoffed, and eyed all of them carefully. “So, you’re the ones from the Hashiba group? How do I know you’re all good enough to watch over it?”

“Swears, Akechi-san,” another man said, “We’re the best the family had to offer.”

Plus me, Hifune thought, on Iwai’s good word that he was good… at _something_ to do with the yakuza. Heart sinking, he regarded Akechi as the young man inspected them with the scrutiny of a person assessing displayed meats.

So Akechi somehow dealt with the yakuza, and _not_ in the way Hifune thought detectives did.

Disappointed—yes. Surprised? Unfortunately, no.

Good god, let this be over.

“Alright.” Akechi hummed. “You.” he pointed at a quiet man in a leopard print shirt, and Hifune heaved a sigh of relief. So he at least was choosing competent people. Right.

Akechi’s eyes landed on him, and Hifune’s eyes widened.

“And you.” He smiled, and it felt like the devil was smiling back at him.

* * *

“Good evening, Joker,” Akechi said sweetly, kissing his throat as Joker slowly put his makeup on, staring unseeing at the mirror of his vanity. “How have you been? You’re looking radiant as always—you’re even in the dress I got you.”

Akira was in a full princess gown, deep black with a see-through lace top that had a high neck. Sheer sleeves went down to his elbows in twisting designs of vines and black roses, which continued down as embroidered designs of silver into the black chiffon delicately layered on top of Akira’s skirts. His gloves were made of delicate lace in the same colour, resting on the vanity’s table, with the wrists secured with a black silk ribbon. The Queen’s Necklace rested in its case again, shining like the treasure it was, waiting to grace Akira’s neck.

Akechi smiled at Akira through the mirror. “A beautiful black princess to match my white prince. Fitting, isn’t it?”

“Akechi.”

“Oh?” Akechi chuckled, pulling off both their masks to see Akira’s tearstained cheeks, eyes red and puffy, and he hid his triumphant smile in a kiss to Akira’s temple. “Aw, what’s wrong, Akira? Why the tears?”

“I—I hate this,” he confessed, crumbling down onto the vanity, and Akechi’s grin only widened at Akira’s despair. His hand came up to rub comforting circles into his back. “You were right— _fuck_ , you were _right._ ”

“It’s okay,” Akechi knew better than to say _I told you so._ Not now. “You had no way of knowing.”

“He—I just—” Akira threw his hands angrily, only for Akechi to catch them. The younger man glared up at him, meeting Akechi’s even stare, and he deflated, sinking into Akechi’s chest as the detective hushed him softly. “He broke my heart.” Akira said after a long moment, and Akechi hummed, nodding as he stroked Akira’s hair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“A detective’s intuition is never wrong, Akira.” He said, and he felt Akira flinch in his arms.

Oh, that was right—his father was a detective, wasn’t he?

“Oh, hey, I had come to see you early for a reason.” He said, and Akira pulled away from him to look at him, lip worried between his teeth. Akechi smiled, and cupped Akira’s face in his hand. “Because of certain circumstances, you’ll have to retire from being the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse.”

Akira’s eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“Shido’s orders.” Akechi said, “Starting after tonight, you’re staying with him in his apartment. You’ll pay your debt off yourself, straight to him.”

“His… apartment.” Akira echoed numbly, and Akechi’s smile widened.

“Yes. You’ll finally be able to start looking for the Nijima will.”

* * *

Morgana woke up alone in Leblanc’s attic, jolting violently as he sat up abruptly, panting. He heard a faint meow next to him, and he saw Mona crawl into his lap, meowing worriedly as he pressed himself against him. Morgana wilted, and he hugged the kitten close to himself.

“S-sorry, Mona.” He apologised sheepishly. “It’s just… it’s so _weird_ to not be with Akira in The Metaverse right now.”

Mona replied with a frightened meow, and Morgana scratched him between his ears as he settled back down in bed with a tired sigh.

“Yeah, I’m worried about him, too.” He said, “Why tonight, of all nights…” He looked at the calendar hanging on the wall right across him, and he squinted on the box for that day. “Shido day.”

Mona meowed again. “Yeah, Akira never brings me along if Shido’s coming over for sure.” He said, cuddling the kitten. “But tonight feels so… scary. Akira’s not in the right state of mind.”

Mona cocked his head at him, and Morgana huffed.

“You know it too, Mona! There’s something really wrong with what happened between Yusuke and Akira. I just _know_ it.” He rolled over in bed, grumbling. “I don’t know _what_ it is, but I know it’s there. I just _know_ that Yusuke wouldn’t be able to hurt Akira like that.”

Morgana looked down at Mona, and deflated. “Dad didn’t raise us to be bad judges of character.”

Mona meowed in response, and began pawing at Morgana’s wrist. The boy blinked at his cat, and finally Mona gestured towards the windowsill, where Akira’s bed was pressed next to. He spotted their parents’ treasures, and his eyes widened.

“Surely Akira won’t mind me taking them…” He said, getting out of bed and hurrying towards Akira’s bed, Mona in his arms. He set the cat down on the bed, before reaching for the lighter and the wristwatch, weakly putting the watch on and settling down in Akira’s bed, cuddling the lighter and Morgana close to his chest. “He… won’t mind me taking a rest here for a bit, too…”

He fell asleep to the scent of his brother and his kitten around him, and the solid weight of the watch around his wrist, and the lighter filling up his hand.

* * *

Akira let Shido take his hand, pressing a kiss to it in a show to all the casino patrons, smiling through grating disgust as he let himself get pulled into the man’s arms.

“And the winner for tonight is Samael,” Queen declared, her voice flat and her eyes glaring at their Owner, and across her, Leviathan scowled, still holding onto her empty flute of champagne. Arsene was on his feet, expression carefully neutral, in his hand the decisive dice that damned their game in Shido’s favour. “The house betting pool is now closed for the night.”

Leviathan wrapped her hand around Arsene’s wrist, preventing him from throwing the dice down in his anger, and Shido smirked at the both of them, as he twirled Akira like in a dance. He caught both his hands in each of his, Akira’s back pressed to his chest. The prostitute was displayed like a treasured doll, and it broke Arsene’s heart to see Akira’s eyes so… lifeless.

Dead.

What had happened to him, he thought with frustration coiling in his gut, and he could only watch as Shido led Akira away into the staff corridors, every inch a gentleman—at least, until they were behind closed doors.

Akira remained silent through the whole walk, as the staff doors closed, Ryuji and Mishima leading their small group not towards his suite this time—but the Manager’s Suite. Shido’s grip was now iron-tight, bruising and unforgiving, and they arrived at the door to find Akechi standing outside of it, a plastic smile on his face.

“Samael.” He greeted simply, and he was answered with a grunt, and a dismissive jerk of his head. Akechi’s smile didn’t fail, and he turned to Ryuji and Mishima. “Thank you for the service, I will be handling the rest from now on.”

“Yeah, sure…” Ryuji replied, looking worriedly at Akira, but the prostitute’s gaze remained fixed ahead of him. Mishima opened his mouth to speak, but Ryuji shook his head. He squeezed his partner’s shoulder, and jerked his head at him to follow him away from the suite. When they were gone, Akechi unlocked the room, and opened the door for Shido and Akira to walk inside.

The man practically dragged Akira towards the bed, but unlike before, Akira simply let him, barely making a sound as he was thrown unceremoniously onto the bed.

“Now, I’m sure Akechi has already told you, but tonight is your last night here in The Metaverse.” Shido said, getting his tie undone, but Akira didn’t reply, silently removing his mask before Shido did. “Go on, say something. You must be _dying_ to never come back.” He thrust his foot into Akira’s gut, and finally wrangled out a choked sound of pain from him. Akechi stood at the doorway, having locked the door behind them, and frowned deeply.

“Speak when you’re spoken to, boy.” Shido spat.

“Thank you… sir.”

“Obedient tonight, are we?” The man smirked, pulling Akira up by his hair, and he admired the prostitute’s wincing face. “I’m bringing you to my apartment. You’ll stay there for now on, and pay your debts there yourself.”

“What about Morgana?” Akira’s voice was barely a whisper, hoarse, and Shido laughed, throwing him down onto the bed.

“I’m a merciful man.” He said, “Morgana can cut off all ties with The Metaverse,” at that, Akira’s widened, and he sat up, shocked. “Oh, finally you do something, filthy little bitch.” He snarled, grabbing Akira by the throat, and he choked painfully, squirming in the man’s grip. “You’ll never see him again, nor your little _friends_ , but in return—you’ll never have to worry about them.”

Akira’s vision was going spotty—desperation for air, for absolution for Morgana, but he managed to see Akechi in the corners of his vision, frowning and shaking his head.

_The battle was just beginning. The worries would only grow._

With Akira out of The Metaverse, his extra activities and outing of its players with his friends and allies in the casino would stop completely, and Shido had a thorn out of his side.

But getting into Shido’s apartment spelled the beginning of the end—if he found the Nijima will, he could end it all, right then and there. They had the evidence. The victims. Witnesses. Now, they just had to destroy The Metaverse, to clear it of the curse that had been put on it.

It hadn’t always been a casino.

It’d been a theatre, Makoto had said. A theatre her father had purchased for her mother’s love for the arts.

“From tonight on, you’re _my_ pet, and mine alone.”

Akira met eyes with Akechi, just as Shido let go of his throat, and the brunet nodded.

The uphill battle was on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 24 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Senior Inspector Katsuya Suou?” She asked, and he raised an eyebrow at her.
> 
> “Yes.” He adjusted his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with a finger. “To whom am I going to be of service?”
> 
> She cocked her head. “You weren't told?”
> 
> The man sighed. “I was called by my… partner to Tokyo on a favour from an old friend.” He said. “Though I suppose this favour isn't one of the friendly kind.”
> 
> The woman’s smile was sardonic. 
> 
> “Very well.” She said. “We will take you to the hotel to check in first, and then to your meeting place with our employer. Please, do follow me. Allow me to take your things, as well.”
> 
> “I can manage.” Katsuya replied, and she nodded, striding out the door. He followed after her carefully, and got into the back of a waiting limousine at her gesture, having opened the door for him. He looked ahead to see another young woman behind the wheel, and the first one sat next to her out front. 
> 
> “Sumire.” The woman at the front passenger seat said, and the driver nodded, pulling out of the parking spot and into the driveway. 
> 
> Katsuya eyed the two suspiciously, and looked down at his phone to see a text message. He opened it up discreetly to read it. 
> 
>  
> 
> _From: Maya Amano_
> 
>  
> 
> _Hi, gimme a text when you're in Tokyo. Yukki sent me our old colleague’s name—Ichiko Ohya. Dunno why she needs you, but it's got something to do with Masayoshi Shido._
> 
>  
> 
> _You know what that means._


	24. une mémoire dispersée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (a scattered memory) 
> 
> _that's like a far-off dream._
> 
> “Listen, Morgana. Don't you ever forget—even in the most dire situations, you should never lose hope.” The rain began to die down, but the man didn't seem to mind. “Always look for a way. Never stop hoping—don't lose sight of the best outcome you can get.”
> 
> He wrapped Morgana’s hands gently around the kitten in its makeshift blanket. “You've never truly lost until you give up.”
> 
> “I-I don't get it.” He whined, and the man chuckled.
> 
> “Maybe not now, but someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yodels symmetrically [here's another spinoff for the casino au](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12071100) this time about morgana and akira and their p2 family.......... im emo............
> 
> anyway there's nothing much else to say. thank you so much to everyone who's been commenting so far! i truly appreciate all the love you give to this fic. it keeps me going, it really does. thank you super much to the artists who drew for this fic! that means so much to me, i'm crying. thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

It was a warm summer day, spotted with sunshowers every now and then, and they were out in the park, all four of them, hand in hand. Morgana wore a clear raincoat with black pawprint-shaped spots, splashing his boots in the small puddles left by the rain that had recently passed over them. Akira, much younger then, at 12, had followed after his little brother, holding an umbrella that matched his boots, responsibly watching over him as they walked ahead of their parents.

The sky was beautiful that day, vividly crystal blue and white, the air shimmering with a quivering heat of a heat haze, and the park’s flowers bloomed so perfectly, a kaleidoscope of colour that seemed like starbursts of red, blue, white, yellow decorating green bushes like gemstones. His father was naming each and every one of them, shielded under the umbrella his husband held with one hand, their other hands joined with each other as they lagged behind their sons.

“Ah, asters. Daintiness, symbols of love.”

His husband hummed, interest clear only to his family, and they walked on, Morgana right at the front, practically dragging Akira along with him.

“Oh, Papa, Papa!” Akira called, stopping Morgana in his tracks with a tug on his hand, and the boy turned to pout at his brother, who ignored him in favour of pointing at a yellow flower. Their fathers made their way over to the two of them, appreciating Akira’s effort to keep their group together, and he received a kiss to his forehead for his effort. “This one, it’s a chrysanthemum!”

“Chrys… anther… mum.” Morgana attempted to say, but their father chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“No, darling. It’s a zinnia.” He said, “This yellow one means daily remembrance. You’re always thinking of them, every day.”

“Ohh…” The boys drawled slowly, eyes wide in awe, and their other father laughed quietly behind a fist.

“Jun, maybe a more in-depth flower language lesson for them would be better, don’t you think?” He said, and Jun laughed, shaking his head.

“Only if they ask, Tatsuya.” He said, and the brunet shook his head fondly, kissing Jun’s knuckles sweetly. The young man chuckled, taking Akira’s hand in his free one. “Come on, boys. Let’s head off for lunch.”

“Okay.” they chorused, but as they began walking away, Morgana heard the sound of weak meowing. He stopped, his hand coming loose from Akira’s, and he whirled around, trying to pinpoint where the sound came from.

It came a little way away from the zinnia Akira identified wrongly, and it sounded like a little kitten calling out for help. Morgana steeled his expression—his father Tatsuya was a police officer who helped people in need. If his dad could help those who needed it, then so could he.

He strode away from his family, determinedly heading towards the sound of the kitten, and soon he buried himself in the bushes, looking for the source of the sound. Hidden away underneath wet brown leaves and mud, Morgana spotted a little ball of black and white fur, shivering furiously. His eyes widened and he dove into the bushes deeper, trying to reach for it.

He knew he was getting his raincoat dirty with mud, but maybe Jun would understand. He was going to save this kitten!

He got onto his knees, crawling under the bushes easily, the foliage just high enough for him to crawl under. Carefully he made his way to the shivering ball to pick it up gently in cupped hands, and he picked it up to see it was a soaking wet kitten, eyes barely open yet, and trembling. His heart broke slightly—it was so _thin_ and helpless. It looked so fragile that he felt that just a gust of wind could hurt it.

“D-don't worry,” he stammered, hugging the kitten close to himself. “I-I'm gonna save you.”

The kitten meowed helplessly again, and Morgana crawled onward, out from underneath the bushes to emerge into the yellow cobblestone road of the park. He straightened up, and looked around for his family—

Only to find them gone.

Morgana’s stomach sunk in shock, and he held the kitten closer to himself as panic began to rise in his throat. Where were they? They couldn't have gone that far—he didn't take _that_ long in the bushes, right? They couldn't have left him behind that easily.

The kitten meowed in his hands, and Morgana resisted the urge to cry. He could do this, he told himself. He could find them again, he had to be strong for the kitten he just saved.

He took a deep, shaky breath. He picked a random direction down the road, and began to walk.

* * *

“No, we couldn't have lost him,” Jun was starting to look panicked, and the line on Tatsuya's brow was growing deeper. The park security guard paled at the man’s intimidating glare, and decided to pay attention to Jun instead.

“Please, try to remember where you lost him.” He said carefully, “Any landmarks? What were you talking about?”

While the adults talked, Akira held onto Tatsuya’s hand, expression on the thin edge between holding his tears back and full-blown crying. He had been tasked by their fathers to watch over Morgana, and the moment he took his eyes off him, Morgana had disappeared. He wasn't a good big brother, after all.

He'd begged and begged Tatsuya and Jun for a little brother, but he didn't know he would end up losing him like this, and so soon. Morgana hadn’t even been in their family for long.

He sniffled weakly, and much to his surprise, Tatsuya knelt down to look him in the eye.

“Akira?” He asked, stroking his son’s hair. “What's wrong?”

“I-I'm sorry.” He stammered, and Tatsuya’s expression softened at him. “I lost him. It's my fault.”

“It's okay.” The man said, and he kissed Akira’s forehead. “We'll find him together.”

“Tatsuya,” Jun began, and the two of them looked up at him. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of them, and he smiled warmly. “Oh, Akira.” He leant down to hug his son, and patted his head. “The security guard said we should probably split up to go look for him.” He looked at his husband determinedly. “You have your phone on you?”

Tatsuya nodded. “I'll keep Akira with me. We’ll take the eastern side.”

“I'll meet you in an hour if I don't find him.” Jun nodded, and they split up.

* * *

Morgana grew tired of walking quickly enough, sitting heavily down on a bench, very ready to cry. He couldn't find them—his parents, Akira—they were nowhere to be found, and Morgana’s hope was fading.

The kitten hadn't stopped shaking, even if he was trying to keep it as warm as he could. The sky was already turning dark, and he didn't know what else he could do. If the rain came, then the kitten would…

Morgana felt tears prickling his eyes. No—he promised to save it. He couldn't let it die.

The first few droplets of rain fell, and Morgana panicked slightly, quickly letting the kitten into his raincoat, and he sighed shakily.

“I miss them…” he whined softly. “I-I wanna see them again…”

Much to his surprise, a shadow loomed over him, and the rain stopped. Morgana looked up to see a bespectacled man in a suit who looked a lot like his father.

“Hello there.” He said, standing over Morgana to shield him from the rain with a wide umbrella. “Why are you sitting out here all alone?”

Tatsuya had taught him and Akira not to speak with strangers, and he clamped his mouth shut. The man huffed softly, and pulled out a police badge from his suit pocket. Morgana's eyes widened at it, and he lit up.

“Police officer!” He gasped, “Like my dad!”

“Yes, I know your father.” The man chuckled dryly. “So, Morgana.” The boy jumped. How did the man know _him?_ “Where are your parents? Why are you all alone?”

Morgana deflated, and much to the man’s shock, he dissolved into tears as the story tumbled out of his mouth.

Later, after the man gently wiped his tears dry with his handkerchief, the story half-understood through Morgana’s blubbering, he nodded sagely. “May I see the kitten?”

Morgana gingerly handed it to him, and the man tutted softly. “Alright. She's wet—we have to dry her out.”

Morgana lit up, and he hurried to pull out his handkerchief from his pocket. The man raised an eyebrow at him.

“You'll dirty that.” He said, “Jun won't be very happy.”

Morgana didn't know why the man knew his other father, too, but he shook his head. “He'll understand. I'm gonna—I'm gonna save the cat.”

He sniffled softly, and the man nodded, gently wrapping the kitten in Morgana’s handkerchief.

“I-it's gonna make it, right?” Morgana asked weakly. “I-it's not gonna die, right?”

The man looked at the sniffling boy, and he smiled warmly. He patted the boy’s head gently, and returned the wrapped kitten to his shaking hands.

“Listen, Morgana. Don't you ever forget—even in the most dire situations, you should never lose hope.” The rain began to die down, but the man didn't seem to mind. “Always look for a way. Never stop hoping—don't lose sight of the best outcome you can get.”

He wrapped Morgana’s hands gently around the kitten in its makeshift blanket. “You've never truly lost until you give up.”

“I-I don't get it.” He whined, and the man chuckled.

“Maybe not now, but someday.” He said. “Oh, look.” He turned around, and he let Morgana see Tatsuya heading towards them, Akira beside him. Morgana lit up, and he jumped onto his feet in alarm as the man stood aside.

“Dad! Akira! I'm so sorry!” He wailed, hurrying over to them, and he hugged Tatsuya’s midsection, careful not to squash the kitten in his hand.

“Morgana!” Akira cried, and the boy hugged his little brother. “Please don't scare me like that ever again!”

Tatsuya looked away from his sons, and Morgana watched him approach the other man with a bewildered expression.

“… Big brother?”

Katsuya gave him a wry smile. “So, that's Morgana, is he? You taught him well not to talk to some random stranger.”

And that was how Morgana met his adoptive uncle, and the story embarrassed him to this day.

Morgana woke up slowly to the sensation of Mona licking his face, and he smiled slowly at the kitten.

“Hey,” he said softly, stroking its head. “I was just dreaming about your mama.” He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes to realise he had fallen asleep on Akira’s bed. A glance at the wall clock told him that it was nearing the lazy 10 o’clock on a Sunday, and the sound of Sojiro working downstairs told him breakfast—and morning—had come.

But Akira had not, and Morgana’s despair started anew.

* * *

An hour before lunch hour, the bullet train came to a stop at the station, doors hissing softly as they opened, and a man in a sharp suit stepped out, pulling along with him a small leather suitcase. He frowned at his wristwatch as he walked onwards towards the exit hall, where a young woman in a black suit waited by one of the gates, holding a card with his name on it.

“Good afternoon.” He greeted her, bowing his head once, and the woman bowed at him as well.

“Senior Inspector Katsuya Suou?” She asked, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes.” He adjusted his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with a finger. “To whom am I going to be of service?”

She cocked her head. “You weren't told?”

The man sighed. “I was called by my… partner to Tokyo on a favour from an old friend.” He said. “Though I suppose this favour isn't one of the friendly kind.”

The woman’s smile was sardonic.

“Very well.” She said. “We will take you to the hotel to check in first, and then to your meeting place with our employer. Please, do follow me. Allow me to take your things, as well.”

“I can manage.” Katsuya replied, and she nodded, striding out the door. He followed after her carefully, and got into the back of a waiting limousine at her gesture, having opened the door for him. He looked ahead to see another young woman behind the wheel, and the first one sat next to her out front.

“Sumire.” The woman at the front passenger seat said, and the driver nodded, pulling out of the parking spot and into the driveway.

Katsuya eyed the two suspiciously, and looked down at his phone to see a text message. He opened it up discreetly to read it.

> _From: Maya Amano_
> 
> _Hi, gimme a text when you're in Tokyo. Yukki sent me our old colleague’s name—Ichiko Ohya. Dunno why she needs you, but it's got something to do with Masayoshi Shido._
> 
> _You know what that means._

He frowned deeper, and glanced at the two women in front of him before sending back a reply.

> _From: Me_
> 
> _I've arrived. You don't suppose she can afford a first class ticket on the bullet train and a limousine, do you?_

He set his phone to silent, and he quickly received a reply.

> _From: Maya Amano_
> 
> _omg. I don't know if Ichiko is really that loaded or she has an employer now. Please be careful._
> 
> _I know you wanna see Tatsuya again, but not this soon, okay?_

Katsuya deflated, and he shook his head.

> _From: Me_
> 
> _I will do my best._

He stuffed his phone back in his pocket, and pulled out his service firearm from his suitcase. Discreetly he put it in the holster under his coat, and settled back down in his seat as he watched Tokyo’s streets roll by.

* * *

Yusuke didn't want to get up.

Yesterday’s events still weighed him down, a heavy demon perched on his chest, and he couldn't muster up the strength to get up. Still, the incessant ringing of his phone’s alarm eventually annoyed him, and grumbling, he got up and prepared breakfast.

After an awkward, silent breakfast with Madarame, the old man left with little words to Yusuke, leaving him alone in the empty house again. He sat by himself in front of his mother’s shrine, and he witheringly looked at the flowers in the vases.

Akira’s confession bouquet was nearly wilted, and the rose had been missing. Now, all it said was _sorry, I wish I could be with you_ , and Yusuke thought, with his heart sinking, that it couldn't be more right.

He had let himself get corrupted by The Metaverse Casino. He didn't deserve Akira. Not now, not ever.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he saw a message from Ohya.

_Don't forget—Cafe Leblanc, Yongen-Jaya, lunch._

Yusuke deflated. He couldn't go back to The Metaverse anymore, but he had to at least finish this business on his end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 25 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> He took a deep breath, and looked at the card Ohya gave him—Haru Okumura. She was expecting him, for some reason.
> 
> He stepped inside, the doorbell ringing pleasantly, and the person in pink was a brunette girl with fluffy hair. She lit up at the sight of him entering the cafe, and a middle-aged man standing behind the counter looked up from where he had been grinding coffee beans. 
> 
> “Ah, welcome.” He said flatly, “What’ll it be?”
> 
> “I, erm,” Yusuke stammered, and the girl giggled.
> 
> “Sojiro-san, he’s with me. A lunch set, please.” She said, and the man’s gaze softened at her.
> 
> “Comin’ right up.” He said, gesturing at the booth seat across the brunette. “Take a seat, Kitagawa.” Yusuke’s eyes widened, but he looked at the brunette, who offered him a friendly smile. She gestured at the seat across her, and he sat down awkwardly, setting his bag down on the seat next to him.
> 
> “So,” she said, clasping her hands daintily together on the table next to a cup of coffee. “Hello, it’s nice to finally meet you, Kitagawa-san.”
> 
> “P-pleasure.” Yusuke nodded. “Forgive me for asking, but who are you? How does the boss know my name?”
> 
> “Oh, I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself yet!” Her eyes widened slightly. “My name is Haru Okumura. I’m the daughter of Kunikazu Okumura, owner of Okumura Foods.”
> 
> Yusuke gaped at her. An _heiress_ wanted to meet with him?
> 
> An heiress that knew about The Metaverse, he reminded himself, and he frowned slightly. 
> 
> “Very well.” He replied slowly. “So you know about The Metaverse?”
> 
> Haru’s smile faded slightly, and her posture diminished. “Yes.” She said quietly. “I was the one who hired Ohya-san to investigate it.”
> 
> Yusuke blinked at her. “You… asked her to ask _me_ to go in there?”


	25. la vérité

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the truth)
> 
> Yusuke’s world came to a screeching halt. 
> 
> Akira was _Joker_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **fucking finally.**
> 
>  
> 
> happy anniversary, p5! you've really made a huge difference in my life. thank you so much. beginner's luck recently just hit 93k, and combining it with the two spinoff fics, that's clear breaching 100k. a fandom first for me, so thank you so, so much.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

It took Yusuke a while, but he managed to make it to Yongen-Jaya’s backstreets, and sure enough, he found the cafe the card told him to look for. Nervously he peered at the door—the clear glass showed a homey interior, devoid of customers save for someone in a pink dress seated at the farthest booth from the door. They were facing his way, and Yusuke knew he’d been spotted.

He took a deep breath, and looked at the card Ohya gave him—Haru Okumura. She was expecting him, for some reason.

He stepped inside, the doorbell ringing pleasantly, and the person in pink was a brunette girl with fluffy hair. She lit up at the sight of him entering the cafe, and a middle-aged man standing behind the counter looked up from where he had been grinding coffee beans.

“Ah, welcome.” He said flatly, “What’ll it be?”

“I, erm,” Yusuke stammered, and the girl giggled.

“Sojiro-san, he’s with me. A lunch set, please.” She said, and the man’s gaze softened at her.

“Comin’ right up.” He said, gesturing at the booth seat across the brunette. “Take a seat, Kitagawa.” Yusuke’s eyes widened, but he looked at the brunette, who offered him a friendly smile. She gestured at the seat across her, and he sat down awkwardly, setting his bag down on the seat next to him.

“So,” she said, clasping her hands daintily together on the table next to a cup of coffee. “Hello, it’s nice to finally meet you, Kitagawa-san.”

“P-pleasure.” Yusuke nodded. “Forgive me for asking, but who are you? How does the boss know my name?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself yet!” Her eyes widened slightly. “My name is Haru Okumura. I’m the daughter of Kunikazu Okumura, owner of Okumura Foods.”

Yusuke gaped at her. An _heiress_ wanted to meet with him?

An heiress that knew about The Metaverse, he reminded himself, and he frowned slightly.

“Very well.” He replied slowly. “So you know about The Metaverse?”

Haru’s smile faded slightly, and her posture diminished. “Yes.” She said quietly. “I was the one who hired Ohya-san to investigate it.”

Yusuke blinked at her. “You… asked her to ask _me_ to go in there?”

“Oh, no,” She shook her head. “That was her idea, actually.” She rubbed her thumb over her cup’s handle nervously as she took it, ready to sip. “Initially, I hired Ohya-san and her apprentice Seiji-san to investigate my father.” She took a sip of her coffee, just as Sojiro came back with Yusuke’s meal, offering him a friendly cock of his head before heading back to the kitchen. Haru gave him a nod when he gaped at the curry platter and the coffee that wonderfully complemented the scent of the food, and he tucked in as she pulled out photographs from her bag next to her.

She set down a photograph of Mammon, and Yusuke’s eyes widened.

“Mammon-san.” He said, after forcing down a mouthful of rice and curry, and Haru nodded.

“This is my father.” She said, “He is a High Limit player in The Metaverse, a fact I learned when I had Ohya-san investigate his strange late nights.” She continued to pull out photographs of players, next a photograph of Bael and Asmodeus together. “These are Junya Kaneshiro,” she pointed at Bael, “A Yakuza _oyabun_.” She pointed at Asmodeus. “Suguru Kamoshida.”

Yusuke nodded, gaping in realisation. “He was a former Olympian for Team Japan.”

“Yes.” Haru’s expression fell. “Now, he is a… prostitute distributor.”

A pimp. Yusuke let out a shaky breath of shock.

“How… horrendous.”

“The list continues on,” She said, a hint of apology in her voice as she set down a photograph of Madarame as Azazel. “You know who he is.”

Yusuke deflated. “I do.”

Haru set down a photograph of Leviathan and Arsene chatting together, and Haru pointed at Leviathan. “This is Prosecutor Sae Nijima from the Public Prosecutor’s Office,” she said, and Yusuke blinked at her.

“A public prosecutor?” He asked, “Wait, but…”

Haru’s smile returned to her face. “She is on your side, isn’t she?”

Yusuke thought back to the tarot game, and he smiled slightly.

“She is.”

Haru nodded, and looked down at Arsene. “However, of all the efforts Ohya-san has made, we couldn’t figure out who Satanael is.” She said.

“Arsene Lupin.” Yusuke said, and she blinked at him. “His—his name is Arsene Lupin. We had made acquaintances outside of The Metaverse, during my sensei’s exhibit.”

Haru looked down at Arsene, frowning. “What does he do?”

Yusuke scratched his cheek. “That, I do not know.”

“It’s alright, Kitagawa-san.” She said politely, and set down another photograph. “This is Crow—”

Yusuke flinched. “Goro Akechi.”

“Yes.” Haru said gravely, and set down another photograph—Samael. “And this man, Samael, is Masayoshi Shido.”

Yusuke blinked down at the photograph. “The politician?” He asked, dumbfounded. “He’s slated to be the next Prime Minister.”

“And that’s why I must hurry,” Haru said determinedly. “In the time Ohya-san and I were investigating The Metaverse about my father’s activities, I found more and more about the conspiracy behind it.” She blushed prettily, “And then I couldn’t stop. The more I found out about the horrible things that have happened behind its walls, I found myself wanting to help more and more.”

Yusuke nodded solemnly. “You are an honourable woman, Okumura-san.”

“Please, call me Haru.” She said cheerfully, “But thank you. This is partly why I wanted to meet you here today.” Yusuke blinked at her as she held her hand out for him to shake. “Kitagawa-san, I would like to ask you for help in this investigation—you’ve been inside The Metaverse far deeper than anyone I have on my team.”

Yusuke looked down at her hand, and sighed. “Forgive me, Haru-san, but I can’t return to The Metaverse anymore.”

Her expression fell. “W-why not?”

He sank back in his seat as her hand fell to the top of the table.

“Akechi drugged me prior to a night with Joker.” Confessing it sounded strange, but it felt like a huge weight off his shoulders. Haru’s shock was clear on her face, and if Yusuke looked, Sojiro was gaping at him, too. “Without my informed consent, we… had sex, and somehow he had obtained videos of it. He used it to threaten me with losing my scholarship, shaming my teacher’s name, and—”

“I knew it!” An unfamiliar voice shouted, and Yusuke jumped. Haru gasped softly and she hurried out of the booth to intercept a little boy that looked a splitting image of Akira. Yusuke gaped at him—the black curls, the heart-shaped face—everything was the same, save for his eyes.

They were bright blue, like sapphires, and Yusuke felt they were familiar.

 _Too_ familiar.

“I knew it, I knew it!” the boy’s eyes were wide and watery with tears. “You couldn’t have! You didn’t! I was right and no one believed me!”

“M-Morgana-chan?” Haru stammered, and Yusuke gaped at her.

“D-did you say… Morgana?”

Morgana squirmed out of Haru’s embrace to dive at Yusuke, hugging his midsection. “Yusuke-san, right? Please, you gotta do something! Akira hasn’t come home yet and I’m scared of losing him, our dads are already gone, I can’t lose him, too!”

Akira. Morgana was the spitting image of Akira, and Morgana’s language implied he knew about Fox, and The Metaverse.

Morgana. The child’s sketchbook. Akira.

_Joker._

“Oh, dear mother in heaven.” Yusuke breathed, shakily holding the boy in his arms, and Morgana jolted in surprise at his sudden hug. “M-Morgana. You…”

“I'm Akira's little brother.” Morgana huffed, pouting at Yusuke's dazedness. “He's taking care of me now that our parents are gone.”

Akira was an _orphan?_

“Wait—Morgana.” Yusuke said slowly. “The child with the sketchbook. The drawings, they were…”

“Mine.” The boy pouted. “You even drew pretty pictures of Akira there, and—look, that doesn't matter right now! My brother hasn't come back home! Fox, you gotta bring him back!”

Yusuke’s world came to a screeching halt.

Akira was _Joker._

Suddenly it all made sense—Akira’s refusal to be his model was the same as Joker’s, and the reason was the same—the burns, the scars, the bruises—Akira didn't feel beautiful enough to be his model. Joker was in love with him even before they met properly— _Akira_ , the florist, had always liked him back, even before Yusuke's entry into The Metaverse.

He could almost laugh—all that time, he said he wanted to save _both_ Joker and Akira, but _of course._ Of course he wouldn't have realised they were the same person.

He shook his head instead, hugging Morgana again.

“I love him.” He said shakily, and this time he meant _both_ of them. “I… I love him.”

“Yusuke!” Morgana sounded frustrated, but Haru was gaping at him as he turned to look at her.

“All this time… you didn't know?” She said softly, and much to their surprise, Sojiro let out an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry, but I don't seem to be surprised.” He said. Morgana pouted.

“Yeah, me neither.” Morgana agreed. “Akira’s… into idiots like him.”

Yusuke blushed slightly. “I will take that as a compliment.”

Haru shook her head. “Well, I suppose now you know. Will you still back down from this? Will you really not save him?”

Morgana looked desperately up at Yusuke, and the young man steeled his expression.

“All the demons of hell could come and none of them would stop me.” He declared boldly. “I will do whatever it takes to save Akira from The Metaverse.”

“And many others, too.” Haru added mildly, but she was smiling. “It's time you hear the whole story of The Metaverse.” She declared, and Sojiro set down new cups of coffee in front of them. She blinked up at the man, who gave them both a grin, and he pulled up a chair to set down at the head of the table.

“I know a little something more about The Metaverse, too.” He said. “I'll go get a hot chocolate for Morgana.”

Morgana nodded, scooting closer to Yusuke in the booth, and hugged his arm. Yusuke smiled, and let him be.

“Thank you very much, Sojiro-san.” Haru said, and Yusuke turned back to her. “Alright.” She took a deep breath, and began.

“The Metaverse Hotel and Casino didn't start off as a casino.” She said, and Yusuke nodded.

“Sensei told me the same, though he didn't know what it originally was. Munehisa Iwai-san was part of the security prior to the change.”

“Yes.” Haru nodded. “The Metaverse used to be called The Orpheus Theater. It was rather popular back in the day, and it had shows almost nightly in the years it had been open.”

Yusuke blinked. “The Metaverse… was a theatre?”

“Apparently so.” Haru replied. “It was owned and part-time managed by a man named Akihiko Nijima. He was also a police officer, but he purchased the theatre because of his wife Hamuko’s love for the arts.” She sighed softly. “I saw photographs of it back in its glory day. It was beautiful.”

Yusuke deflated. “What a shame.”

Sojiro set down a cat-designed mug in front of Morgana, and the boy lit up, carefully taking it to sip at his cocoa. Sojiro settled down on the chair he took, and sighed deeply, his own cup of coffee in his hand.

“Ah, The Orpheus. That was a masterpiece.” He shook his head, and the two blinked at him. “I was part of the staff back then.” He said, “Staff Management. Though, that was the official title. I was there mostly to gather information, things like that.” He took a long sip of his coffee. “I knew the Nijimas. Charming couple. Akihiko may have owned it, but it was definitely Hamuko who ran the place. Amazing woman, creative mind. She and my daughter’s mother Wakaba got along well.”

“Wakaba?” Haru cocked her head. “Wakaba Isshiki? The playwright?”

“Yeah, her.” Sojiro nodded. “I adopted her daughter, Futaba.”

Yusuke frowned. “What happened to her?”

Sojiro gave him a steely glance. “She's dead.”

The artist gaped at him in shock, and Haru deflated. “Yes, it is as you said. One night, The Orpheus burned down, and took with it the owner, his wife, and Isshiki-san.” She said. “The rest of the employees had scattered, though some, like Iwai-san, managed to stay.”

Sojiro made a displeased face.

“It wasn't the fire that killed them.” He mumbled.

Haru nodded. “Ohya-san’s investigation found the same.” She pulled out photocopies of newspaper clippings from her bag, and set them down in front of Yusuke. “Prior to the fire, The Orpheus somehow suddenly faced financial turmoil.”

“Psh.” Sojiro scoffed. “The Orpheus was supposed to be successful. Full houses every night we were open.”

“How peculiar.” Yusuke frowned.

“The Orpheus was being charged excessively in terms of services, utilities and land tax, somehow pushing it to the brink of bankruptcy. The whole time, each complaint was silenced by the court, and The Orpheus lost millions of yen in the span of a year.” Yusuke’s eyes widened. “Because of that, the staff, the cast, and all the patrons were trying desperately to save it.”

“And then suddenly out of the blue, a buyer showed up, showing interest in taking this somehow cursed property off the Nijimas’ hands.” Sojiro snorted. “The papers were calling him a hero of the arts.”

“He?”

Haru pulled out Samael’s photograph from under the sheets. “Masayoshi Shido, prior to his entry in the Diet.” She said. “He said he was going to take The Orpheus from Nijima-san and save it himself, but he refused. The theatre was for his wife—she was living her dream through it.”

“Not just her.” Sojiro said, “The actors and actresses too. The Orpheus was for the people who built it—who knew what Shido would make of it?”

“And then?” Yusuke asked.

“Akihiko Nijima was killed, along with his wife, and Wakaba.” Sojiro sighed, rubbing his temples, and Morgana patted his side. The man gave the boy a withering grin. “And then The Orpheus was burned down, and it disappeared from the memory of the public.”

Yusuke deflated. “That is absolutely horrible.”

“He left behind a will, actually,” Haru interjected politely, “Ohya-san found the law firm it was made at, but the will itself was missing. Without it, Nijima-san’s wishes for The Orpheus would never be realised, not legally.” She fiddled with the hem of her dress.  “Sojiro-san, you knew them—what do you think the will said?”

“Akihiko and Hamuko probably left it to their daughters. Sae, and Makoto.”

Yusuke and Haru jumped, and Haru began digging around her bag. She pulled out a photograph of Queen, and put it next to Leviathan’s photograph. “Them?” She asked in surprise, “Makoto Nijima,” she pointed at Queen, “And Sae Nijima?” She pointed at Leviathan.

Sojiro inspected the photographs, and nodded. “That's them.”

“Wait, so Sae-san and Makoto’s supposed to own The Metaverse?” Morgana asked, and Sojiro nodded. “Then… then why is Shido running it?” His eyes welled with tears. “Why is everyone stuck there?”

Sojiro patted the boy’s head. “Because it's not that easy, kid.”

Morgana looked at Haru pleadingly, and she lowered her head.

“I'm sorry, Morgana-chan, but there's more.” She pulled out a photograph of a theatre’s stage, the cast of a play still in full costume gathered together, smiling widely. “This was the cast of the last play performed in the theatre— _Anastasis,_ the story of Eurydice and Orpheus, though Nijima-san and Isshiki-san had written it to be as told through the eyes of Eurydice, changing the plot a little to have Eurydice play a more active role.”

She pointed at a young man standing front and centre, standing between a wide-smiling woman with her hair tied up in a ponytail, and a tall bespectacled woman with short, black hair in a bobcut.

“This is Jun Kurosu, the lead actor of the troupe and nicknamed the Crown Jewel of The Orpheus. The brunette to his left is the playwright and owner, Hamuko Nijima, and to the right is her co-author Wakaba Isshiki.”

Morgana froze, and Yusuke looked at him worriedly. “Morgana? Is something the matter?”

Haru looked at the boy in concern. “Morgana-chan?”

“M-my papa was named Jun too…” he said shakily. “C-can I see… the picture… properly?”

“O-of course.” Haru nodded, and handed Morgana the picture. The boy looked down at it, wide eyed, and much to their shock, tears began rolling down his face. “M-Morgana-chan!”

“Morgana, what's wrong?” Yusuke asked, gently taking the photo from the boy as he pulled him into his arms, hugging him warmly as he rubbed his back. The boy began to cry, and he buried his face into the crook of Yusuke’s neck.

“Th-that's him, that's my papa.” He sobbed. “He looks a little different, but that's him.” He shook his head. “I'd never forget.”

Haru deflated. “Now everything makes sense.”

Yusuke looked at her worriedly.

“Kurosu-san, alongside some others, turned to more… desperate measures to save The Orpheus.” Sojiro turned away from them, lowering his head. “They tried loaning money from the yakuza.”

“Yakuza?” Yusuke and Morgana gasped.

“No! Not my papa, he wouldn't!” The young boy protested. “He's… he's better than that… dad wouldn't let him!”

“Tatsuya Suou?” Sojiro asked, scratching the back of his neck. “I remember someone mentioning Kurosu had a boyfriend he ran away to Tokyo with.”

“Yeah! My dad’s name is Tatsuya!” Morgana nodded. “He's a police officer. The yakuza’s scared of him! There's no way papa would!”

“But… he did.” Haru said softly, and Morgana gaped at her as she took out another paper from her bag. “This was a list of… clients Junya Kaneshiro had that year. He apparently was a lackey of Shido’s as well, so in the end, Shido would still have won out somehow.” She showed them a long list of names, and Sojiro seemed to wither more at the sight of them. These people were his colleagues. _Friends_ , Yusuke thought, heart sinking. He couldn't imagine the pain the man must have been going through.

“Wait. Is that Mitsuru?” Sojiro suddenly gasped, taking the paper from Haru. He scanned the paper some more, and sighed deeply. “These damn stupid kids…” he sighed, pained. “Yukari… Junpei…” he shook his head and put the paper down. “They were all close friends with the Nijimas. Hamuko especially.”

Yusuke scanned the names—many were unfamiliar, but he saw Jun Kurosu’s name on the list, highlighted with a pastel pink line, presumably by Haru.

“Your father is indeed here, Morgana.” He said softly, and the boy hung his head.

“After the theatre was bought out by Shido after the fire, they had no way of paying the money back.” She said. “They tried to; many of them lost… too much.” She shuddered, and Yusuke squeezed her hand reassuringly. She nodded at him in thanks, and continued. “They ended up scattering, hiding from Kaneshiro’s group as best as they could instead, hoping somehow they will find a way to prove they'd been swindled.”

“From what I know, Kurosu went back to Sumaru with his boyf—” Sojiro shook his head, grinning down at Morgana. “Husband. You and Akira grew up there, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” Morgana nodded, “It was our dads’ hometown, too.”

“A moment, please.” Yusuke said, and they turned to look at him. “So does that mean that Akira’s family has incurred a debt to Shido?”

“Yes.” Haru looked at Morgana, who avoided her gaze. “Around the same time as The Orpheus ran into troubles, Tatsuya Suou-san was a police detective, and had been probing into Shido’s affairs while his husband was getting caught in them.” She pulled out a copy of a newspaper clipping, and Yusuke’s heart dropped to his gut as his blood went ice-cold.

 _POLICE DETECTIVE, PARTNER, MURDERED IN HOME BY UNKNOWN ASSAILANTS,_ the headline was like a brand that burned into Yusuke’s vision, shocking black against faded grey, and his head spun.

“He had made significant progress on building a case, so the stories went. And that was why…” She trailed off there, and looked at Morgana sadly. “I… didn’t know he was your father, Morgana-chan. I’m so sorry.”

The boy sank against Yusuke’s side. “To tell you the truth… I don’t remember much of what happened that night. I get headaches if I tried to remember, and Akira says that’s because I tried to block out what I saw.” His expression tightened, and so did his fists on his knees. “Akira remembers everything, though.”

“Morgana-chan,” Haru said, “Without your head hurting, what can you remember?”

Morgana looked at her tiredly. “A lot of crying… blood? A fire.” Sojiro rubbed the boy’s back as he continued to speak. “Akira carried me around the whole time. We got into a car and a man had a gun to Akira’s back. He was—he was— _ah_ ,” Morgana winced, gripping the side of his head, and Haru launched onto her feet.

“Morgana-chan! You don’t have to!”

“No, I have to tell someone. I-I _have_ to. Dad would have wanted me to.” He managed through grit teeth. “We were taken into a car. Drove to the bullet train, and then taken straight to Tokyo. I’d fallen asleep, I think, and when I woke, Akira was gone and I was in a hotel.” Morgana panted softly, starting to calm down, and he straightened himself up. “And then, when Akira came back to me, he looked… dead. Like he was ready to just drop. He was covered in bruises and burns and I cried my eyes out again.”

Sojiro shook his head, and patted Morgana’s messy hair. “Then Futaba picked them up and brought them here to me, said I needed to help them settle down, find a place to stay. I didn’t want to, at first, but then Akira told me he was paying a debt to Shido, and it was like The Orpheus all over again. I couldn’t leave them hanging.”

Yusuke looked down at the table in shock. “So Akira is a prostitute to pay off a debt? But this was how long ago?”

“I know what you mean, kid,” Sojiro grumbled. “With what Akira’s making as Joker the debt should’ve been wiped clean by now, but no. Shido just won’t let him go now. Not when he’s being so…” His hand balled into a fist. “ _Useful._ ” he hissed.

Yusuke scowled. “That bastard. We absolutely must put a stop to this.” He looked at Haru. “You mentioned that Suou-san made significant progress on his investigation of Shido’s activities? Where may we access his findings?”

“Well,” Haru looked uncomfortable, “I had Ohya-san call someone in from the Sumaru City Police Department for help.” She looked at her phone, and sighed. “And from the looks of it, he has finally arrived.”

Yusuke frowned, cocking his head, and the bell on the door jingled pleasantly as it opened. He and Morgana looked over their shoulders to look at the newcomer, a tall man in a sharp suit, tinted glasses over his eyes. He stepped into the cafe, pulling along a small leather suitcase, and he came to a stop when his eyes fell on them, widening slightly at the sight of them.

“Ah, Suou-san…” Haru said weakly, and Morgana shot to his feet.

“Uncle Katsuya!” He yelled, voice brittle and ready to shatter, and the air went completely still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 26 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> “This is Arsene Lupin.” Morgana said excitedly. “He's a th—”
> 
> “A pleasure to meet you all!” Arsene cut the boy off, clapping a hand over Morgana’s mouth, and the boy struggled in his hold as he held his other hand out at Haru to take. “I am Arsene Lupin the Fourth, a descendant of Viscount Lupin from France. Akira is a good friend of mine.”
> 
> “It’s nice to meet you! My name is Haru Okumura.” Haru said pleasantly, taking Arsene’s hand only to squeak in alarm as the man suddenly kissed it. 
> 
> “A rose by any other name still smells as sweet.” He said charmingly, and Yusuke resisted the urge to laugh when the brunette girl’s cheeks turned bright red. 
> 
> “Careful, Mr. Lupin.” Katsuya said, warning clear in his voice as he pointedly glared at the man who still had his hand over his nephew’s mouth. “I could arrest you for harassment.”
> 
> “Apologies.” Arsene said cheerfully, “I find myself at a loss in the company of beautiful people, such as Mademoiselle Okumura, and of course—” Katsuya's eyes widened when Arsene flicked open his badge case, suddenly produced from his sleeve like a magic trick. “Dashing officers like yourself.” The Frenchman grinned at him, giving him a cheeky wink before blowing him a coy kiss. 
> 
> Katsuya didn't quite know how to react, wordlessly gaping at Arsene at his boldness, and at the sudden loss of his badge. 
> 
> Sojiro sighed, shaking his head. “This is Inspector Katsuya Suou. He's Morgana and Akira's uncle.”
> 
> “Uncle?” Arsene echoed, quickly putting the badge on the table. “Well, that complicates things.”


	26. l'empereur de la justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the emperor of justice)
> 
> “Uncle Katsuya…” Morgana was sobbing now, and Yusuke’s heart broke at the sight of the boy crying. Katsuya got up, carefully picking the boy up in his arms as he hushed him softly, though he looked on the verge of tears as well. “Why didn't you come save us? Why did Akira have to suffer so much?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is taken from a hc of mine that katsuya's arcana should be either the emperor or justice. :^)
> 
> is accompanied with [a three-part spinoff](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12135324/). **read at your own risk. this contains serious, terrible and potentially triggering themes, and can seriously hurt someone's psyche. please. if you are currently emotionally unstable, do not read this fic. please take care of yourselves first.** This chapter contains a more concise version of the spinoff, without more of the incredibly triggering things in the spinoff. You don't have to read it if you can't take it. 
> 
> Aside from warnings there in spinoff, there's also a warning here. **Please be warned of the mention of past rape in this chapter.** Please be careful and don't forget to take happiness breaks.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

There was a tense moment of silence, and much to Yusuke’s shock, the man fell to his knees, the handle of his suitcase clattering to the ground.

“Morgana.” He breathed. “Morgana, it’s… it's you…”

The boy hurried to his uncle, tackling him in a tight, desperate hug, and the two of them melted against each other in relief.

“Oh, I haven't seen you in years,” the man continued, kissing the boy’s temple as Morgana hugged him closer. “I—I was so—I thought—”

“Uncle Katsuya…” Morgana was sobbing now, and Yusuke’s heart broke at the sight of the boy crying. Katsuya got up, carefully picking the boy up in his arms as he hushed him softly, though he looked on the verge of tears as well. “Why didn't you come save us? Why did Akira have to suffer so much?”

The man’s eyes widened, and Yusuke could see the very moment his heart broke into two. He lowered his head, carrying Morgana over to the booth where they all sat, and Sojiro moved aside and sat next to Haru to let Katsuya settle on the chair he occupied. Morgana pulled away from his uncle, sniffling as tears rolled down his face, cheeks ruddy like splashed watercolour red. The brunet man sighed, and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe Morgana’s face dry, and the boy hiccuped quietly as the man worked.

“Because, Morgana, I couldn't.” His hand balled into a fist in his damp handkerchief, and the boy looked at him pleadingly. “I tried— _god,_ did I try. Maya pulled all the strings she could, too. I sent out missing persons reports, only to have them blocked. I tried leaving Sumaru City, but my chief wouldn't let me, swamping me with menial work to keep me from finding the both of you.”

“Wh-what about now?” Morgana gripped his uncle’s lapels. “Y-you're here.”

“I…” the man finally smiled, sardonic. “I played hooky. Like your father once did.”

Morgana’s eyes welled up with tears. “I miss them.” He said. “I missed you.”

“Through Ohya-san’s old colleagues’ help, I managed to find Suou-san.” Haru said, and they all looked at her to see her dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. She smiled warmly at the two. “Maya Amano-san referred him to us, and I have never been more grateful to have met you, Suou-san.”

“I do believe the sentiment is mine,” Katsuya replied, “I had almost lost all hope of finding my nephews again.” He paused, “Speaking of which, where is Akira?”

Morgana deflated. “That's why we needed you here.”

Katsuya’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear god.”

Haru nodded gravely. “Suou-san, my name is Haru Okumura. I am Kunikazu Okumura’s daughter, and my team and I are currently investigating The Metaverse Hotel and Casino. We plan on saving every last one of its victims, Akira-kun included.”

“We were hoping we could obtain your brother’s information with regards to Shido’s activities.” Yusuke added, and the brunet looked at him.

“And who might you be, young man?” He asked.

“My name is Yusuke Kitagawa. I am—”

“Akira's boyfriend.” Morgana said, and Katsuya raised an eyebrow at Yusuke.

He blushed deeply. “I—well—”

“I don't resent my nephew having a lover, no.” Katsuya shook his head. “In fact, I'm glad to see he has found some reason to be happy here.”

“Well, we're not exactly lovers.” Yusuke stammered.

“Not _yet._ ” Sojiro snorted. “Nice to see you again, Suou.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Katsuya nodded at him, and looked at Haru. “Very well. My brother left me everything he found about Shido, especially about The Orpheus. Morgana—”

The boy nodded, getting off his uncle’s lap to let him stand, hurrying upstairs. Katsuya headed towards the doorway to pick up his suitcase, and brought it back to the table, sitting next to Yusuke as he opened it. He took out thick folders of papers, photographs and other articles, setting them down next to Haru’s more modest pile of evidence.

“He had checkbooks. Bank transaction records. Written receipts between Shido’s staff and the mafia.” He said, picking up a random folder to show them a stack of photocopied checks, bound together with several rubber bands. He closed it again and set it aside, moving on to another. “There are signed contracts. Photographs.”

He took out a photograph of a feral-looking man, shaking hands with Shido in a seedier casino compared to The Metaverse, and the date—handwritten by an unfamiliar scrawl—gave a date almost a decade prior.

“Tatsuya Sudou. A serial arsonist still at large back in Sumaru City.” He said, his expression hardening as Morgana came back to them, in his arms a curiously blinking Mona. At the sound of the arsonist’s name, Morgana jolted, and Mona began meowing in distress. “Morgana?” Katsuya gasped, grasping his nephew as Morgana collapsed against him. “What's wrong?”

“I-I remember… this man…” the boy whimpered, shaking as he looked at the photograph fearfully. “He was… he used to lurk around the house… he talked to papa a lot, he…” Morgana buried his face into the crook of Katsuya’s neck as Mona tried to lick what he could reach. “He was there the night they d-d-d…”

“Hush, you don't have to say it.” Katsuya said softly, but his expression was cast iron. “So that was why the house was set on fire. That _was_ his style…”

“Th-that guy… Akira said he did… terrible, terrible things…”

“Morgana, he hurt your family—” Yusuke began, but Morgana continued speaking.

“He did _things_ to papa… Akira said… he… did horrible, horrible things to him, and I—” Morgana's expression crumbled with pain, and Katsuya hugged him tighter. “We could hear his shouts. We could hear him crying, we could hear dad—just—he was so _mad_ and I was so scared, and…”

Realisation clicked in their heads. Haru gasped in horror, cupping her hands over her mouth.

“K-Kurosu-san…!”

Katsuya’s expression tightened. Sojiro lowered his head as Yusuke’s hand balled into a fist.

“What a monster…” he murmured, shaking his head.

“Well. I know who I'm going after.” Katsuya almost growled. “However, while the evidence my brother gathered is enough for Shido’s case, I can't guarantee much for the rest of The Metaverse’s unsavoury characters.” He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “For instance, the pimps he may have employed, any other conspirators… Tatsuya and I only ever managed to follow criminals from Sumaru City.”

Morgana looked up at his uncle. “You mean… you don't have anything on like, Madarame?”

“ _We_ do.” Haru said, nodding at Yusuke with a fierce expression on her face. The young man nodded, and she pulled out a CD from her bag. “I'd meant to give this to you.” She said, and Yusuke accepted it with a nod. “However, I don’t have enough to save everyone.”

All the adults deflated at the table, and Morgana looked around at them desperately—until he lit up, a lightbulb seemingly going off above his head.

“I know someone who does!”

They all jumped as Morgana launched off his uncle’s lap, Mona leaping down onto the floor and chasing after him as Morgana hurried to the phone on the counter. He climbed up a chair with little difficulty, and rang a phone number.

The adults shared nervous looks as Morgana waited, and suddenly the door slammed open.

“Morgana!” A tall man in a sharp suit practically yelled, and Yusuke got onto his feet.

“A-Arsene!” He gasped, and Arsene blinked at him.

“Ah, Fox.” Arsene said, as Morgana grabbed his hand, yanking him towards the table where they sat. “Boss.” The man nodded at Sojiro, and he looked at Haru and Katsuya questioningly.

“This is Arsene Lupin.” Morgana said excitedly. “He's a th—”

“A pleasure to meet you all!” Arsene cut the boy off, clapping a hand over Morgana’s mouth, and the boy struggled in his hold as he held his other hand out at Haru to take. “I am Arsene Lupin the Fourth, a descendant of Viscount Lupin from France. Akira is a good friend of mine.”

“It’s nice to meet you! My name is Haru Okumura.” Haru said pleasantly, taking Arsene’s hand only to squeak in alarm as the man suddenly kissed it.

“A rose by any other name still smells as sweet.” He said charmingly, and Yusuke resisted the urge to laugh when the brunette girl’s cheeks turned bright red.

“Careful, Mr. Lupin.” Katsuya said, warning clear in his voice as he pointedly glared at the man who still had his hand over his nephew’s mouth. “I could arrest you for harassment.”

“Apologies.” Arsene said cheerfully, “I find myself at a loss in the company of beautiful people, such as Mademoiselle Okumura, and of course—” Katsuya's eyes widened when Arsene flicked open his badge case, suddenly produced from his sleeve like a magic trick. “Dashing officers like yourself.” The Frenchman grinned at him, giving him a cheeky wink before blowing him a coy kiss.

Katsuya didn't quite know how to react, wordlessly gaping at Arsene at his boldness, and at the sudden loss of his badge.

Sojiro sighed, shaking his head. “This is Inspector Katsuya Suou. He's Morgana and Akira's uncle.”

“Uncle?” Arsene echoed, quickly putting the badge on the table. “Well, that complicates things.”

Sojiro gave the man a pointed look, but Morgana tugged on his sleeve.

“Arsene! You have dirt on everyone in The Metaverse, right?” He pouted, and the man frowned thoughtfully.

“Ah, yes. I do.” He said, and the rest of the table lit up. “Well, not _everyone_ , but I do believe I have something for most of the scum who frequent it.” He settled down on the chair at the head of the table, eyeing them carefully. “However, those… evidences are strictly between Akira and I. How I obtained them, after all…” He eyed Katsuya warily, “It is not of the most honourable ways.”

“Frankly, anything you could have done to get evidence on dirty deeds would be cleaner than anything your targets have done.” Katsuya said, and Arsene smirked at him.

“Is that absolution I hear, officer?” He purred, flinching when Yusuke suddenly rammed his foot into his shin. The older man looked at him witheringly, but he shook his head, straightening himself up as he ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly. Katsuya coughed delicately, pink crossing his cheeks. “Very well. You intend to save everyone in The Metaverse, yes?” He asked, inspecting perfectly manicured nails, and Haru nodded determinedly.

“After everything I found out about it, how could I not?” She said, and Arsene smiled at her slowly.

“Admirable.” Arsene nodded, pulling out a small thumbdrive from the inside pocket of his coat. “I never part from this little device, my dear. This contains information that topples corporations.” He set it down on the table, and pushed it closer to her gently. “And it includes yours.”

Haru took a shaky breath. “I’m aware, monsieur.”

Arsene’s grin mirrored the devil’s, and Yusuke now realised why he blended into the backdrop of The Metaverse so well, alongside the snakes that slithered across its marbled floors.

“Ah, I love a woman strong enough to face her family’s shadows.” He chuckled warmly. “I heard about your story from Akira.”

Haru jumped slightly, looking up at the man with surprise.

“Pure soul he was, he wanted to save you too.” He continued. “So, I will cooperate—but I do have a simple request of you in return.”

“Y-yes?” She stammered.

Arsene’s eyes were sharp as he looked back into her eyes.

“He saved me once. Please, save him as well.”

Haru met his gaze with determination.

“I’ll even let you watch the casino burn.”

Arsene huffed softly. “Welcome to The Metaverse, mademoiselle Noir.”

* * *

Yusuke sighed tiredly, leaning back against the seat as he finished his plate of curry—dinner, still courtesy of Haru. Across him, Arsene sipped at a cup of coffee, silently watching Haru speak with her bodyguards by the door over Yusuke’s shoulder. Hours had passed since he arrived at Leblanc, and somehow it felt like days and mere minutes all at the same time.

Akira… was not who he thought he was.

Then again, who was Yusuke to assume what Akira’s story was? The revelation was shocking—to grossly understate it—but it had been eye-opening. Somehow all the blanks in his narrative were filled in rather nicely, and he loathed to admit it, The Metaverse truly was a magical place.

Yusuke studied Arsene’s handsome features, the square of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the way deep red eyes flickered from Haru to her bodyguards and back, and Yusuke found himself thinking of falcons.

Falcons ate snakes, didn’t they—Arsene was Akira’s falcon, spearing snakes by their eyes, one by one, in their den in The Metaverse.

Arsene’s lips curled up into a smirk shaping into the syllables of his name, and Yusuke snapped out of his reverie.

“Apologies, should I not have moved?” the man asked, “That stare of yours is rather… intense. I feel like a bird in a fox’s gaze.”

“Ah, I hadn’t meant to…” Yusuke bowed his head, straightening up. “I was simply thinking.”

“About?”

“Things.” He replied to the cock of Arsene’s eyebrow at him. “Forgive me if I pry—what did you mean by Akira had saved you?”

“I mean what I said.” The man replied. “I was one of the first few Akira had saved.”

“Oh?”

Arsene nodded, finishing off his coffee. “Some years ago, there was a murder at the casino.”

Yusuke’s eyes widened.

“Yes.” The man’s expression was dark, his hand a tight fist on the table. “I knew the victim.” He looked off to the side, and for a moment, Yusuke saw the glimmer of what looked like grief. “… Intimately. Still, I had been the unfortunate scapegoat, seeing as back then I had been a simple patron, and knew nothing of what lay behind the gilded walls of The Metaverse.”

“A simple… patron.” Yusuke frowned. “I don't think I know what it is exactly that you do.”

Arsene chuckled darkly. “I am a thief.”

Yusuke gaped at the man, who gave him a wink, hushing him with a finger to his lips.

“Ah, no enemies here,” he said. “An enemy of my enemy is a friend.”

“A thief?” Yusuke hissed incredulously. “Were you going to steal the _Wildcard?_ ”

“Absolutely not.” Arsene scoffed. “I was intending an honest transaction with that, same as Akira did for the _Incarceration._ He wanted money to go to _you,_ after all. I would not steal your painting if it meant depriving you of its monetary worth.”

Yusuke deflated. “I have never received anything for my artwork.”

Arsene frowned. “That old man is an absolute rat bastard.” He snarled.

“Well…” Yusuke rubbed the back of his neck. “You said you were framed for murder?”

“Ah.” The man nodded, just once. “Yes. However, during that time, I had been trying to avail of Akira’s… services.”

Yusuke looked at him witheringly, and the man laughed.

“I am a man with needs as well, you know.” He sighed fondly, leaning his chin on his hand. “However, at the time, I was not aware I was trying to hook up with a mere _child_.” He pulled a face, shaking his head. “Akira vouched for me while I had a gun to my head thanks to security. They let me go with some reasonable decorum, and granted me a night with Akira for the trouble they caused.”

“Did you…” Yusuke made a vague gesture with his hand, and the man laughed.

“Sleep with him? No. He was simply a child, and I… I had a dear friend to mourn.” Arsene sighed. “I still do, actually, but no amount of grief brings back the dead.” He gestured at the stairway up towards a second floor, where Katsuya and Morgana had gone up to. “The brothers attest to that.”

Yusuke deflated. Speaking of Akira’s family…

“Is it safe to assume then that Akira’s real name is Akira Suou?” He asked, and Arsene nodded.

“Suou was the name his family carried, yes. Akira had to get rid of it when they came to Tokyo, though I do not know why. I suspect it has something to do with their safety in Shido’s… _care_ , because what kind of nephew would not seek out an uncle capable of helping?”

“True.” Yusuke sighed. “Akira, he’s… truly a wonderful person.”

Arsene hummed in agreement.

“He has been suffering so much, and yet he wants to save so many…” He shook his head.

At Haru’s request, Arsene introduced the rest of Akira’s team to them, and Yusuke felt his heart sinking at each story he heard. With the way the casino staff acted, it was hard to see they had problems underneath their skin, but then again—who ever divulged stories like that to complete strangers?

Skull—Ryuji Sakamoto, ex-star runner who made it to Nationals for Shujin Academy’s first gold medal. He was slated to join Team Japan to participate in the athletics events of the Olympics, but due to friction between him and the ‘star’ of Team Japan, Suguru Kamoshida, he somehow disappeared from the media’s eye.

Haru, frowning deeply, had provided the rest of the story—it was over his girlfriend and high school sweetheart, Ann Takamaki, one of Shibuya’s hottest models today—Panther, as she was known in The Metaverse. Her best friend Shiho Suzui had been victimised by Kamoshida, and due to her defiance to fall to the same trap, Ryuji had paid the price with a broken femur, and a lost chance at the Olympics. The couple had fallen into desperation trying to save each other, and eventually fell into working in The Metaverse under the threats of blackmail from the now-pimp that Asmodeus was.

When Yusuke asked what had happened to Shiho, Haru simply fell quiet, and Arsene lowered his hat, murmuring something in French.

(Later on, Yusuke found out it was the first part of a prayer for the dead.)

Lune was a young man named Yuuki Mishima, a self-proclaimed rookie journalist hot on the trail of the Nijimas and The Orpheus Theater—he’d been the only solo investigator so far to have survived for that long on their bloody, protected trail, and it was thanks to Oracle—Futaba Sakura, a prodigy child who finished college at 14. They had met by chance, and together, they managed to stumble upon Shido’s network in The Metaverse as the hacker group Medjed. Upon finding Shido, they found Akira, in the remains of his family’s tragedy, and he recruited them into helping him avenge Futaba’s mother.

Then there was Queen—Makoto Nijima, up-and-coming university police liaison rumoured to soon overtake Akechi in relevance. She and her sister had the rights to the casino, but after their parents’ murder, the two were forced to go into hiding, and now, the two siblings were back for vengeance, and their inheritance back. Yusuke couldn’t blame them for the bad blood—if the same were to have happened to him, The Metaverse would do worse than simply burn to the ground.

They were close-knit, and kept many of Akira’s secrets close to themselves the way Akira kept theirs, and Akira’s motivation to save them all ran deep.

Yusuke had thought back to how Akira wanted to save him too—a proxy victim of The Metaverse in his own right, as Haru laid out the evidence Ohya had gathered about Madarame. A large chunk of the money Yusuke’s artworks made went to Madarame’s Metaverse account, which siphoned into one of Shido’s many accounts. The rest, naturally, went to Madarame to fund his lifestyle.

And then, of course, Yusuke got the equivalent of loose change. The way Arsene’s hand tightened around his coffee cup was not unlike the way falcon talons closed around the necks of rabbits, but all it did was warm Yusuke’s heart.

And make it race—he _had_ to save Akira, too, seeing how dedicated the rest of the operations was. Arsene had filled them in on what he knew—ever since Shido won Akira last night in a rigged dice game against Sae and Arsene, no one had heard from Akira. Not Akira’s team in the casino staff, not Arsene, and especially not Morgana.

With the way Morgana loved him so much, it seemed unthinkable to Yusuke for Akira to purposely not contact him.

They had to act, and they had to do it _fast_. They needed to find Akira again, to set their plan into motion.

“He takes after his father, I heard.” Arsene said, and Yusuke blinked at him. “The police officer.” He chuckled. “Tatsuya Suou. That man did all he could to protect his family. His husband, his sons…” He shook his head. “A shame, what happened to him.”

Yusuke deflated.

“Akira loves them very much.” Arsene continued, gesturing at the stairs. “If you intend on joining their family, I suggest you start getting to know them.”

“Oh, I…” Yusuke hesitated. “It is late. My sensei—”

Arsene gave him a kind smile. “Fret not. I _will_ protect you. If he comes looking for you, I will be your alibi.”

Yusuke smiled at him slowly. “Thank you, Arsene.”

“No, young Fox,” the man chuckled. “Thank _you,_ for being the rhythm Akira’s heart beats to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 27 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> It felt like hell. It felt like he shouldn't have survived that. 
> 
> But he knew why he did. 
> 
> He had to find the Nijima will. He had to save everyone in The Metaverse. He had to avenge his parents, his family—
> 
> He had to see Yusuke again. 
> 
> Akira flinched. 
> 
> No, he shouldn't. No—Yusuke wouldn't want to see him again. In the end, whoever it was Yusuke liked won, and all Akira was to Yusuke was some way to scratch an itch he couldn't get rid of. 
> 
> In hindsight, Akira thought, it was probably his fault Yusuke got the itch in the first place. If he hadn't been so forward, if he hadn't flirted with him so much, maybe he wouldn't have riled Yusuke up so much. 
> 
> Maybe he and Yusuke would have been, at the very least, just friends. 
> 
> Friends. Akira could live with that. 
> 
> But no, Akira just _had_ to sleep with him. He just _had_ to tell him he was in love with him. He just _had_ to be the dirty little whore he desperately didn't want to be. 
> 
> Maybe Shido was right. 
> 
> Maybe he was…


	27. le toucher du diable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the devil's touch)
> 
> “Eurydice, wife of the legendary poet Orpheus.” Shido said, inspecting the dress carefully, as if it were a priceless artefact, and with the way his lips curled into a smirk, he knew how important the dress was to Akira. “This was worn by the lead actor of The Orpheus Theater on the very last show it held before it burned down. He was amazing, I was told—a true star, just like his mother.”
> 
> He put the dress in Akira's shaking arms, still grinning. 
> 
> “What was his name again, I wonder?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > [casino au] on another note, I JUST HIT 100K HOLY BALLS MOM I DID IT I'M WEEPING I ACTUALLY MADE A 100K WORD LONG FIC.... [pic.twitter.com/UK8zjRnEiL](https://t.co/UK8zjRnEiL)
>> 
>> — bukkun/arsenefukr69 (@trickscd) [21 September 2017](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/910893655900041216)
> 
> HEWWO HEWWO! SO GUESS WHO JUST HIT 100K ON THE GDOCS OH MY GOSH!!!! It's my first time ever to hit 100k for a single fanfic! In celebration for this historic event, I've decided to double-chapter upload! Yay(?)!
> 
> **warnings for this chapter: THERE IS RATHER EXPLICIT NON-CONSENSUAL TOUCHING/MOLESTATION. PLEASE BE CAREFUL. it's also mostly shido/akira, but there's some plot in there, i promise. i'm so sorry it had to turn out this way.**

Akira opened his eyes slowly, wincing in pain as he took in his surroundings. He was in a four-poster bed with black satin bedsheets and gold-embroidered pillowcases, and around him, the curtains of the bed were an opaque red velvet, drawn, keeping him away from the world outside.

Which, really, wasn't much.

Groaning softly, he sat up to inspect his body. There were more bruises on him, the burns still stayed the same, though in their place, more cuts blossomed, crusting blood drawing black-brown lines down his pale skin. With numb fingers miraculously not broken, Akira reached behind him to check his entrance—leaking, but when he looked at his hand, mercifully, there was no blood. Still, his body sang with pain. He hadn't been taken to see Takemi yet.

If—and that was one big generous _if_ —Shido would let him see her at all.

Akira shuddered. The night before had been terrible. Without the drug usually forced into him, Akira was forced to endure the whole thing awake. He could remember every inch of his skin Shido’s hands ran over, every hit and cut that broke and bruised it. He could remember screaming his throat dry, tears spilling from his eyes until none would come out.

It felt like hell. It felt like he shouldn't have survived that.

But he knew why he did.

He had to find the Nijima will. He had to save everyone in The Metaverse. He had to avenge his parents, his family—

He had to see Yusuke again.

Akira flinched.

No, he shouldn't. No—Yusuke wouldn't want to see him again. In the end, whoever it was Yusuke liked won, and all Akira was to Yusuke was some way to scratch an itch he couldn't get rid of.

In hindsight, Akira thought, it was probably his fault Yusuke got the itch in the first place. If he hadn't been so forward, if he hadn't flirted with him so much, maybe he wouldn't have riled Yusuke up so much.

Maybe he and Yusuke would have been, at the very least, just friends.

Friends. Akira could live with that.

But _no,_ Akira just _had_ to sleep with him. He just _had_ to tell him he was in love with him. He just _had_ to be the dirty little whore he desperately didn't want to be.

Maybe Shido was right.

Maybe he was…

Akira shook his head.

None of that mattered, now. He had to find some way to contact his friends—Arsene, maybe, he had a secure phone line—and the will. He and Arsene would be able to figure something out when he found it, what mattered right now was actually finding it.

Pained, he rolled out of bed, thankful to find that he at least didn't have some cliched cuff at his ankle. Pulling the curtain aside, he saw the room he barely registered the night before, clean white walls of hotel quality, barren of windows, and he scowled.

Shido lived a rather lavish life off squandered taxpayer money, and it made his blood boil seeing it for himself.

He almost had half the mind to trash the room, but he couldn't afford getting tighter security. He didn't even know if he was allowed to wander the apartment. He took a look around the bedroom, and found a dresser next to the ajar door of an en suite bathroom.

Curiously he opened the dresser—and immediately regretted it. Inside was a whole repertoire of outfits, many of them scanty, and Akira knew all of these were for him.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, shaking his head as he rummaged through the clothes to find something decent.

He ended up with a sheer, see-through black robe with black fur at the edges. Sighing, resigned, he took it with him to the bathroom, which was roughly the same size as the one he had back in The Metaverse in his penthouse suite. The utilities were the same—glass walls for a shower stall, a luxurious white marble clawfoot bath, and marble for the rest of the furnishing in place of tiles. Akira shook his head, hanging up the robe on a gilded towel rack and quickly took a shower, taking account of all his injuries as he washed away dried blood and cum off his skin. Refreshed, he stepped out of the shower, dried himself off quickly and simply dropped the fluffy white towel on the floor.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt a little sorry for the person who had to clean that up, but he could be apathetic enough to leave it there. Huffing, he pulled the robe on, sneaking a look at himself in the mirror to see the steady blossom of bruises across his skin, the rings under his eyes, and the haunted look they framed. He shook his head and headed back into the bedroom.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Shido sitting on the bed, leg crossed over the other and watching him oddly placidly as he froze in place in front of the bathroom door.

“Good afternoon.” He said flatly, and Akira blinked.

“Afternoon.” He echoed, and the man nodded, checking his watch.

“Early evening, to be precise.” Shido said, getting up from his seat to approach Akira, and the younger man forced himself to stay still as he set down large hands on either side of Akira’s neck. “Take this off,” he said, pushing down the sheer gown, and Akira shivered as the cold wind of the room made goosebumps blossom over his skin. “This is meant to be paired with a set of lingerie inside the closet. Did you not see them hanging together? You wear it together, or not at all.”

“U-understood.” Akira bit out, the sound of the gown hitting the ground with a soft _puff_ coupling with his sharp intake of breath when Shido ran his hand down his arm to take his hand.

“Come, to dinner with me.” He said, “And you put on something else, and properly.”

Dinner with him—it was scandalous for a politician like Shido to take someone like Akira out anywhere— _especially_ wearing the things he saw in the closet—so it meant they were eating inside the apartment.

Much to Akira’s surprise, Shido brought him closer to the bed, and pulled out a box from where he had hidden it in the covers. The man set it down on top of the covers, and opened it to reveal a shimmering white gown.

“What's…” Akira gaped at it. Why did it feel so… _familiar?_

“Do you recognise it?” Shido asked, pulling it out of the box to unfurl it, showing Akira cross-crossing gold satin highlights on top of the white silk, shimmering gently in the dim light of the room.

Akira's heart dropped to his gut. He knew this dress.

“Eurydice, wife of the legendary poet Orpheus.” Shido said, inspecting the dress carefully, as if it were a priceless artefact, and with the way his lips curled into a smirk, he knew how important the dress was to Akira. “This was worn by the lead actor of The Orpheus Theater on the very last show it held before it burned down. He was amazing, I was told—a true star, just like his mother.”

He put the dress in Akira's shaking arms, still grinning.

“What was his name again, I wonder?”

“Jun.” Akira breathed. “Jun… Kurosu.”

“Ah, yes.” Shido nodded, patting Akira’s shoulder heavily. “Your father, wasn't he? A true beauty, he was. He took after his mother very well—simple hair extensions was all it took, and no one could tell the difference!”

“Why…” Akira whirled around to look at Shido, eyes wild. “Why are you showing me this?”

“We are having dinner, Akira. I thought it was prudent for you to wear something to match the occasion.” He smirked. “What better than the final dress of the Crown Jewel of The Orpheus Theater?”

Akira’s eyes prickled with tears. He didn't see this coming—it was almost _cruel_ to be reminding him of his parents at a time like this—but then again, when was Shido anyone but a cruel man?

“Come, now. Let me help you into it.” The man smirked, “So I know where to start when taking it off.”

Akira shivered, and squeezed his eyes shut as Shido took the dress from him, the sound of a zipper ringing too-loudly in the air as they began getting Akira dressed.

He thought back to a photograph his father used to have on his desk—Jun, smiling beautifully in full costume, complete with his wig of beautiful, long blonde hair, and the shimmering white dress. When the photo was taken, Tatsuya said, the final dress rehearsal for _Anastasis_ had recently finished. Tatsuya had told him the story of that final show—how Eurydice did more than simply wait for her husband Orpheus, how she herself travelled to meet him halfway through the Underworld to see him again.

_“Love someone who would do the same for you, Akira.”_

_“What do you mean, Dad?”_

_Tatsuya huffed softly, and kissed his son’s temple._

_“Someone who wouldn't simply wait, or someone who wouldn't make you wait. Find someone who would meet you halfway.”_

Akira could feel his heart breaking all over again. He never had a chance to find his own Orpheus.

The Orpheus he wished he found in Yusuke.

“And there we are.” Shido pulled away from Akira, tilting his chin up to take a look at the dress and his face properly. “It fits like a glove, how marvellous.” He hummed, pleased. “The previous Crown Jewel for the new one. Wonderful—you're like a treasure of your own.”

Akira felt numb. He couldn't find it in himself to respond.

“Now, your underthings—I suppose white would match very well…” the man hummed, as if they were talking about the weather. “On the bed, Akira. Lift your skirt and lift your legs when I tell you to.”

Akira nodded slowly, making his way to the bed and climbing on it, lying back against the pillows as Shido took a set of white stockings, garters and belt, and lace panties.

“Obedient today, are we?” He chuckled darkly. “Or have you finally accepted your fate as a simple little whore?”

Akira said nothing—dazedly watching Shido’s movements from the mirror that decorated his dresser door.

“ _Akira._ ” Shido growled, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at him, and Akira whimpered softly.

He had to play along. He had to survive long enough to find the will.

“Master Shido.” He said, and the man smirked.

“Well, well. The rebellious little bitch is now obedient, is he?” He snarled, but he took Akira’s ankle with an odd delicacy that made Akira shiver. “Hold still while I dress you. Up.”

He rolled up one stocking up Akira’s leg at a time, sensually drumming his fingers over his abused skin, and Akira could feel his body reacting to the featherlight touches.

Shido was never this gentle to him before—what was he planning?

By the time both stockings were rolled up to his thighs, Akira was flushed, panting softly as he felt his blood slowly heating up. Panic began to rise in his throat like bile—no, he couldn't be getting turned on by this, _no._

But his body craved the gentle touch, the sweet soft brush of skin against skin he wished he felt with Yusuke, and the longing and pain was there even when his heart was not.

“Nnh…” Akira twitched when Shido’s hand brushed the skin of his thighs, soft and teasing, oh so painfully close to his limp cock, slowly starting to stir. “N-no, you can't…” he found himself pleading softly, and the man’s smirk only widened.

“You're enjoying this.” His tone was accusatory, like Akira had been caught doing a crime, and Akira flinched, hiding his face from the man in panic. “No, let me see that shameful face of yours.” He growled, yanking Akira's hands off his face to press them down on the pillows next to his ears. “Keep your hands right there. I'm going to watch you come apart, you little slut.”

Akira's eyes burned with tears. Endure it, he told himself, he had to endure it. The pain, the fear, the shame—all of it was temporary. He could make it. He just had to find that will.

Shido’s hand wrapped around his cock, teasing it with soft strokes, and Akira let out a broken moan as it slowly stirred to life.

“That’s it… show me how dirty you are, you filthy little bitch.” The man snarled, and Akira squirmed helplessly, whimpering as his hands balled into tight fists on the pillow behind his head. “Lose yourself. Never forget this feeling—don’t forget that you belong to _me._ ”

He’d never been like this when they slept together—or maybe he was? Akira wasn’t sure. Takemi’s drug had always made everything seem like a blur, made him ignore what was happening to him easily, but now, with all the sensations stark and clear like shards of glass digging into his skin, Akira found himself losing far too quickly.

Shido let him go, and Akira let out a gasp of shock and relief, collapsing back into the bed from his arch he didn’t realise he was making. Panting heavily, he looked up at Shido underneath fluttering eyelashes, and the man regarded him with a pleased expression on his face.

“A debauched goddess. Stunning, in its own right.” He nodded. “Now imagine if both father and son were here for that image.”

Akira’s gut curled in disgust. This man lived completely off his desires.

Shido reached to the side to pick up the white garters and belt, clipping them onto the hem of Akira’s stockings and lacing the belt around Akira’s waist with clinical precision. Next, he put on a pair of black high heels—the only thing that was coloured differently to the rest of Akira’s dress, and kissed Akira’s ankles.

“And now, the coup de grâce.” He grinned, lifting the white lace panties, and slowly, sensually slid them up Akira’s legs. The younger man’s breath hitched the closer the man’s hands got to him, and he watched with mild fear in his eyes as he fitted the panties over his straining erection, mismatching charmingly as hot flesh stretched out delicate lace.

“Oh, what a naughty image you paint.” The man hummed, smirking as he toyed with the head of Akira’s cock, and the younger man moaned, throwing his head back in a helpless thrash against the powerful pull of pleasure. “Behave, now. You can’t tarnish your father’s memory with your disgusting little self, now won’t you?”

Akira squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head wildly.

Much to his shock, a harsh slap connected with his cheek, and he let out a startled gasp.

“Answer me, _pet_.” Shido growled.

“I-I won’t, m-master,” Akira bit out, and the man smirked wider.

“Ask for release.”

Akira’s eyes widened at that, and he shook his head wildly as panic and fear gripped him. “N-no! I won’t! I-I can’t—not my papa’s dr—”

Shido grabbed his chin, squeezing it painfully as he forced Akira to look him in the eye.

“Have I _ever_ said that you could say no to what I tell you to do?” He snarled, and Akira shook—now not with fear, but with rage. “Now answer. _Properly._ ” He threw Akira’s head back into the pillows, and Akira coughed, shaking his head to clear it. “ _Well?_ ”

“P-please, m-master.” He replied through grit teeth. “L-let me cum. Fuck me so I can cum.”

“Good.” Shido smirked, but much to Akira’s surprise, he pulled away from him, wiping his hands on the bedsheets as he got up. “Learn to speak like that more often, and perhaps you’ll get better treatment.”

Akira sat up, eyes wide, and the man gave him a leer.

“We had dinner, hadn’t we?” He drawled. “Get up. We have a guest, and I won’t stand for any form of sloppiness from anyone I associate with.”

Quickly, Akira rolled out of bed and got onto his feet, hurrying up to Shido’s side as the man stood at the bedroom door, looking kept-together as always. He smirked down at Akira, who glowered back at him, and offered him his arm to take.

“To a wonderful evening.” He said, and Akira said nothing, reluctantly taking his arm and walking out of the bedroom, arm in arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no need for a preview for this one; the next chapter's right ahead!


	28. la tragédie divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the divine tragedy)
> 
> “I do believe it is time to begin executing a plan to save Akira from his incarceration.”
> 
> Her eyes widened. “Then that’s…”
> 
> “Yes,” Arsene's smile lacked its usual charm and lustre, not quite reaching his eyes, and Haru deflated. “It seems Akira’s whereabouts have now been revealed to us. The time to act is now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second part of the double-update! i... i hope you're still with me... because it's gonna go _even more downhill_ in this chapter. please hold on tightly. there's a hope spot at the end of this one though... ganba...
> 
> stay strong, hifune my baby son... you can do it...
> 
> **warnings: THERE IS DIRECT MENTION OF RAPE AND MURDER AND CHILDHOOD TRAUMA. AGAIN, PLEASE BE CAREFUL, TAKE BREAKS, DO WHAT YOU NEED TO STAY SAFE.** Of course, I've been warning about this for a while now, but it never hurts to keep reminding and giving people heads-up. Please, take care of yourselves, and thank you everyone for always sticking around to read this.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

Akira didn't have a place at the table. Shido sat down across another chair—the only other chair at the table, and pulled Akira close to himself to make him sit on his lap. The younger man glowered at him, but did little else as Shido settled down with a sigh, absently toying with Akira's hair.

Barely a minute after that, two men with tattoos sprawling up their necks approached the table, a tall, hulking man at their heels.

Shido turned to look at them, but Akira couldn't, trapped with sitting on one side on Shido’s lap, back to the newcomers.

“Shido.” A familiar voice greeted, and Akira's blood froze in his veins.

It couldn't be, he thought, horror and panic rising in his throat. No—

“Sudou.” Shido replied, and Akira felt his hand move to dismiss the other two people Sudou came with. “I'm glad you could make it.”

The man snorted, and sat down across Shido, allowing Akira to finally see a feral-looking man, out of place in a posh three-piece suit. His eyes widened in manic recognition when their eyes met, and a crazed grin crossed his face as Akira resisted the urge to scoot closer to Shido out of sheer fear of the man.

Tatsuya Sudou—the man who shared his father's name—his fathers’ murderer, in the flesh.

“If it isn't Suou’s boy.” He sneered, tobacco-yellowed teeth flashing underneath chapped lips. “We meet again.”

“Ah, yes. I have failed to mention it to you—as of yesterday I have retired Akira from his services as the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse. He is completely mine now, so I do believe you have missed your chance.” Shido framed Akira’s face in his hands. “After all, he is rather beautiful. Had you simply tried him or The Metaverse…”

“No,” the man shook his head. “He looks nothing like Jun.”

Akira's breath caught in his throat.

That was right—Sudou had been his father's stalker in the last few years of his life. He knew before they came back to Sumaru, Jun had already been dealing with a stalkerish fan, but little had they known Sudou would follow them all the way to Sumaru.

“Well, had you been _careful_ ,” Shido viciously stabbed the steak on the plate in front of him, and Akira winced. “We could have had the lovely Jun Kurosu with us as well.”

Akira squeaked in shock when he felt Shido's other hand suddenly grope him, pressing down _hard_ on his crotch. He let out a helpless moan, arching his back as he threw his head back to rest on Shido’s shoulder, and Sudou narrowed his eyes at him.

“And you could be doing _this_ to him too.”

Akira’s skin crawled. He would rather _die_ than let these disgusting men do what they wanted to his parents—either of them.

Sudou glowered at him. “You wouldn't share him if I gave him to you. He's too beautiful to share.” He took heavy, laboured breaths, and past the haze of Akira’s fear and arousal, he realised the man was staring right at him, eyes wild with animalistic rage and lust coiled together in one frightening beast. “He was supposed to be _mine_ —his stupid husband just wouldn't shut up and he wouldn't stop struggling.”

“You wouldn't know enough refinement to realise you had to break his heart before his body.” Shido tutted. “To think someone could struggle so much while being raped to _break their neck_ trying to escape your bear paws—oh? Akira?”

He hadn't realised tears were suddenly rolling down his face. Akira's eyes widened, and his hands came up to feel his wet cheeks, pain flowing freely down from his eyes.

He never really got to see what happened—he had a hand firmly over his and Morgana’s mouths, back pressed to the pantry door as he tried not to scream at the sounds of his father’s pained gasps, yells of fear, pleas for the pain to end.

It all just suddenly… stopped, and all he could hear was Tatsuya’s shock and disbelief, the pain that snapped his once-powerful voice clean in two.

Akira had never heard his father sound anything less than strong—even with his soft whispers, the rumble of motorcycle engines coming from his lips and not his ride—all of it had a steadfastness to it that was very much like him. Tatsuya had never been anything but strong in Akira’s eyes, save for that night he watched Jun suffer, and die.

And then the gunshots came, and Akira could never wipe the memory of the sound from his mind.

He had always denied the truth of what he heard—he was 16 back then, and most certainly not naive. He knew what kinds of sounds his father had made. He knew what was happening—but he had tried so hard to deny it.

He hadn't seen it actually happen—that wasn't what happened—

Yet now, trapped in the Devil’s company and facing the man who committed the crime himself, Akira was forced to face the reality of that night, four years ago.

“He's gorgeous when he cries.” Shido commented, tenderly wiping away his tears in a mockery of affection, and Akira could only sit there, numb with shock and pain.

“Yeah, same as my Jun.” Sudou agreed, and something snapped in Akira.

Bitter, burning rage burst inside him, and he grabbed the steak knife next to Shido’s plate before flinging it at the man at breakneck speed. The two men couldn't react in time, frozen with surprise, and the knife flew right into Sudou’s shoulder. Blood flew from the wound, and Akira struggled out of Shido’s lap and onto his feet, red in his eyes as he charged at the man, hands outstretched and seeking to wrap and _squeeze_ his neck.

“What the _fuck—”_ Sudou swore, getting up from his seat abruptly. “You piece of shit!”

Shido grabbed Akira by his hair, yanking him back forcefully, and the younger man tripped over his heels. It all seemed inconsequential—Akira was heaving with rage, eyes wild with anger and grief.

“You don't have the _right_ to even _think_ about him, you monster!” He snarled, “I'll kill you for killing them!”

“ _Akira._ ” Shido growled, throwing him back away towards the door, and Akira was caught by a pair of yakuza thugs. He struggled in their grip, as Shido straightened up, shaking out his shoulders in annoyance. “Take that little bitch back to the room. It seems he still needs some… disciplining.”

He watched Akira thrash around in their hold furiously as they took him away, and he turned back to look at Sudou.

“Oh, grow up. It's just a shoulder wound.” He drawled, sitting back down in his seat, and Sudou glowered at him as a private doctor, hastily called over, dressed his wounds.

“So what was that about breaking hearts, _Shido?_ ”

“The boy has still some fight in him—I had only recently locked him away, though.” He nonchalantly took a sip of wine. “How convenient it was for him to have fallen in love with a customer of The Metaverse—my son, Akechi, you know him,” he said, waving his hand, and Sudou grunted.

“TV pretty-boy.” He nodded. “I think I've fucked him before.”

“Ah, yes. When you brought the Suou sons to me.” Shido chuckled. “That was four years ago. Splendid memory.”

“That was an important day to me. Not because I fucked your shit son, before you ask.”

Shido smirked slowly. “I could care less about your reasons.” Sudou deflated at that, settling to glare at him as the physician scurried away. “Anyways, Akechi. He apparently hatched a plan to break Akira’s heart all on his own, without even telling me until it was too late.” He laughed derisively, shaking his head. “He takes after me more than I want to admit.”

He inspected the wineglass, smirking. “He apparently drugged the poor man Akira loved to have sex with him, only for him to forget it all happened the next day. Broke Akira’s heart instantly—oh, and Akechi apparently blackmailed him to never come back, as well.”

“Saving his ass?” Sudou snorted.

“I don’t care.” Shido shrugged. “The boy was a pain to deal with, as well. Best to rid of him before he involved himself deeper than necessary. No doubt Akechi had enough evidence to keep him quiet, else things would have already gone sour.”

Sudou’s lips stretched into a manic grin.

“Well, _Shido,_ you know what they say about ships and sinking.”

Shido cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Even the smallest holes could sink the mightiest ships.” He snickered. “You should’ve killed him when you had the chance.”

* * *

Hifune watched the Crown Jewel— _Akira,_ the very Akira that he saw in Cafe Leblanc, sweet and shy and a _prostitute?_ It couldn’t be—land messily in the two men’s arms, snarling and writhing against their grip as he was dragged back, away from the dining table. Horror dawned on his face as the whole scene played out, the casual talk of murder and rape between a wanted fugitive, and the most trusted public official he knew.

Good god, this was worse than knowing Akechi dealt with the yakuza, and he realised how deep in trouble he truly was.

Maybe he should’ve listened to Iwai, after all.

He shook his head, turning away, grateful for the darkness that blanketed the rest of the apartment. One of the yakuza fellows he came with gave him a worried look, patting his back sympathetically before he handed him an antacid.

“H-huh?” He blinked, and the man gave him a sad smile.

“Ah-know it’s a lil’ hard ta’ swaller, ‘specially if it's yer’ first time over yonder,” he drawled softly, “Mune’s got an eye for talent, but I know yer’ jus’ a kid. Take this as an excuse if anyun’ asks an’ go outside ta’ breathe.”

“Th-thanks.” Hifune stammered. “I-I'll, uh,” he made a weak gesture at the door, and the man nodded, letting him go.

He hurried outside of the apartment, shutting the door behind him, and he took deep, shaking breaths. He wanted out of this, but at the same time—

Akira needed help. Iwai had told him the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse—wherever _that_ was—needed his help, and seeing him like that…

There was no way he would let fear get the best of him now. There was a message he needed to send.

He pulled out his phone, hurriedly typing down the building address, floor and room number. It was a smart move on Shido’s part not to take residence in the topmost penthouse unit—that made his presence there far more obvious than where he was now, a modest few floors just underneath the penthouse. He sent the message to Iwai, holding his breath as he looked around worriedly to check if anyone saw him. When he found no one, he heaved a sigh of relief and sank to the floor.

“Sena, you goddamned idiot,” he laughed softly, burying his face into his knees. “What in the hell did you get yourself into?”

* * *

Through a tiny screen, Akechi watched the blond sink to the floor, and sighed softly to himself as he locked his phone, shaking his head.

Poor guy, he thought. It was his first time in a place like that, no doubt—after all, he was just Iwai’s part-timer, roped into this just as much as everyone else was, but Akira’s confidants and extended networks were all innocents, just like he had been.

He took a deep breath and put his mask on, as outside the valet opened the door to the SUV he arrived at The Metaverse in. He gave the young man a nod, striding confidently onwards to the front doors to enter the wide, glittering calico marble of the hotel lobby. He walked onwards, past hurrying bellboys and courteous receptionists to head towards a pair of unmarked red-velvet double-doors, framed with gold. A pair of guards dressed in sharp, expensive suits nodded at him as he approached, and opened the doors for him without so much as a word from him.

“Good evening, Crow.” One of them said.

“Welcome to The Metaverse Casino.” The other continued.

“Evening.” Akechi replied pleasantly, walking through the doors to see Skull—Ryuji—escorting Leviathan—Sae, from the registration counter towards the gaming tables. The two of them stopped to look at him, Sae regarding him with prickly suspicion, and Ryuji outright glaring at him. He politely walked past them to hand his card over to the young woman manning the counter, before turning to look at them.

“Good evening.” He said, and Ryuji’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Where the hell is Joker?” He demanded, and Akechi shrugged.

“Nothing has been disclosed to me, unfortunately. I haven’t seen Samael all day, and I am here to gamble in his place tonight.”

So they hadn’t been told yet, he thought. Shido’s attempts to keep things completely silent was… lacking.

“Bullshit.” Ryuji snarled, and Sae pointedly squeezed the young man’s wrist to keep him quiet. The blond did a double take, and bowed at her apologetically.

“That’s impossible. You should _know_ something, Crow—you know _everything_.” Sae snapped, the voice that condemned criminals in court now facing Akechi, accusatory and defensive all at the same time, and it was only because of the time they spent together did Akechi not shy away or flinch because of it.

“Samael has decided to keep Joker for himself, but that is all that I know.” Akechi lowered his head. “I deduce it has something to do with… _family operations_ ,” Sae’s eyes narrowed at him at that, “And he is trying to mitigate the problem before it gets worse.”

“Mitigate the problem,” Sae scoffed. “What nonsense.”

“Perhaps.” Akechi replied easily. “However, Leviathan, if it is of any help, another police officer was supposed to die—tonight.”

Her eyes widened at that. “No.” She breathed.

“Unfortunately, that operation had failed. The target did not show up where he was supposed to go, almost like he had gone off the grid this morning, when he arrived at Tokyo from Sumaru.” He accepted his card from the casino staff when they approached, and he gave her a friendly smile. “I think Queen should know some more details regarding the officer. I must go.”

“A meeting, with the family. Now.” She replied, and Ryuji jumped.

“H-hey, wait, Miss Levia—”

“Hush, Skull. This is important.” Sae cut him off, her eyes not once leaving Akechi. “Well, Crow? Have we a deal?”

“Unfortunately, no. Samael expects me to win a considerable amount for him tonight, and I was told to expect orders in a short while.”

“I will give you what I will have tonight.” Sae pressed, and Ryuji squirmed in her grip. “Have. We. A. Deal?”

The way she spoke gave Akechi no room to disagree, but he shook his head, pressing a hand to his heart.

“Thank you for your generosity, Leviathan, but a king’s knight cannot be caught playing with pawns.” He said, smile widening into a smirk when he saw red cross Sae’s eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He gave them both a bow, and walked away, and the woman growled, shaking her head.

“Skull—”

“On it, ma’am. I’ll give everyone a call right now.”

* * *

“What the—” Iwai almost dropped his keys, and in front of him, Mishima cocked his head, worriedly glancing at him.

“Iwai-san?” He asked, watching the man read his phone over again, and dread crawled up his throat. “Um… Iwai-san?”

“I need to see everyone.” he said urgently, and Mishima’s eyes widened.

“H-huh?” He stammered, “B-but what about Barong-san, we still need to tell him about Joker—”

“Lune, kid,” Iwai shoved his phone in front of Mishima’s face, and Mishima’s eyes widened. “This _is_ about Joker. Let’s meet everyone, right the hell now.”

“R-right!” Mishima stammered, “I-I’ll go call everyone.”

“Right.” Iwai nodded, and hesitated for a moment. “Oh, by the way, do you know this… Arsene Lupin person?”

“Arsene Lupin? Like that international phantom thief?” Mishima cocked his head.

Iwai shrugged, and the young man deflated.

“Don’t think I do. If he’s a Metaverse customer, I could find out, but right now I don’t have The Metaverse registry renewed in my database, so…”

“Hm.” Iwai frowned. “OK. Just call everyone to Joker’s suite, or wherever is safe. We all need to talk.”

He looked down at his phone, thumb hovering over the contact number Akira had put on his phone a while back—the name _Arsene Lupin_ didn’t seem to set off alarm bells, even if he shared the name with an international criminal. Hell, there could be more than one Lupin in the world, for all he knew, but if the kid trusted him, then…

“Iwai-san!” Mishima tugged at his coat, and the man cocked an eyebrow at him. “Skull’s already calling everyone to Joker’s suite for something. Guess we better get going.”

“Alright.” He nodded, and finally hit ‘send’, forwarding Hifune’s text to this Arsene Lupin.

Hopefully, this helped—he couldn’t stand thinking of Akira left alone too long in the company of a man like Masayoshi Shido.

* * *

Arsene watched Yusuke climb the stairwell, smiling softly, and went back to savoring his coffee. A long moment passed, and he suddenly jumped when he felt his phone buzz. His eyes widened, and he looked down to see a message from an unknown number—but he already knew to expect it.

His eyes widened at the sight of an apartment address, right down to the floor, room number, even the side of the building the room was on, and the pieces fell into place in his head.

“Monsieur Lupin?” Haru asked politely, and his head shot up to look at the girl, who approached him carefully, her bodyguards now gone. “Is something the matter?”

“Ah, mademoiselle…” he breathed, “I…” He looked back down at his phone, and grinned slowly. “Pardon my insolence, but do you happen to have enough spare money to rent out a room for a night?”

“A room?” Haru blinked, cocking her head in confusion.

“Yes,” He nodded, showing her the address, and her expression was blank with confusion. “I do believe it is time to begin executing a plan to save Akira from his incarceration.”

Her eyes widened. “Then that’s…”

“Yes,” Arsene's smile lacked its usual charm and lustre, not quite reaching his eyes, and Haru deflated. “It seems Akira’s whereabouts have now been revealed to us. The time to act is now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 29 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> He would do anything Shido told him to—he was his son, he needed to help his father, his father needed him. He said so himself, that only Akechi could help him.
> 
> He would _kill—has killed_ —for Shido, but Akira—
> 
> Akira was different. He wasn’t Shido, and he looked Akechi right in the eye that fateful night they first met.
> 
> “ _I’m a complete stranger,_ ” he had said, voice and throat in raw, bleeding ribbons, and Akechi’s heart tore into the same strips, mixing with Akira’s bleeding voice at the sound of his concern. “ _But you…_ ”
> 
> Akira had been thinking of him, his own well-being, despite being beaten and bruised, burned and drugged to hell and back, bearing the remnants of his rape— _their_ rape, like battlescars.
> 
> No one had done that to him so honestly before—especially not in a situation like that.
> 
> Akechi didn’t know why he dragged himself over to Akira to look him over, to ask if he was alright, though somewhere deep inside him, he could see a sliver of himself in Akira, bleeding and broken and frightened as he was then.
> 
> “ _Thanks._ ” Akira had smiled so beautifully, and Akechi found a new emotion blossoming in his chest. 
> 
> He wanted to protect that smile. He wanted to love that smile—
> 
> So he kissed him, just once, just gently, and Akechi first learned of love.


	29. tout vient ensemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (everything comes together)
> 
> “ _I am glad Akira has found friends in such selfless people._ ” Katsuya said. “ _Thank you, all of you, for being there for him when I could not._ ”
> 
> Makoto smiled fondly. “It’s the very least we can do for him.” She said confidently, “He’s saving us, so we’re returning the favour.”
> 
> Ryuji grinned wider.
> 
> “He’s our friend, Suou-san. We’ll do whatever shit to get him back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, this is an entire week late.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

Yusuke heard the hushed sounds of murmurs as he entered the attic, and he gaped at the sight of star-stickers dotting the ceiling, all in accurate depictions of constellations in the sky. He had his own set back in his room similarly obtained from Ikebukuro, but unlike this one, his remained unopened, a gift from Natsuhiko for graduating high school. Looking ahead of him, he saw an attic transformed into a bedroom—there was a shelf of cluttered junk related to the cafe below right next to the stairs, but across it, pressed right against the bannister, was a dresser that looked handmade. Pawprints of white over black body paint made it look like a tuxedo marking cat, and Yusuke found himself smiling when he saw the bed pressed next to it on the far right side of the room. It was smallish, with blue covers that was far too bright to be an adult’s, and Mona was sleeping peacefully in the middle of it, curled in a ball.

Morgana’s bed, then—and the bed pressed against the wall where the windows opened was Akira’s. It was plainer, with a simple white sheet and a red-orange duvet, and on top of it, he saw Katsuya and Morgana cuddled together, chatting softly— _catching up_ —as they looked not out of the window, where a wind chime hung, but down at their hands. Yusuke realised Morgana was holding a wristwatch that was far too big for him, and Katsuya was holding a zippo lighter.

Yusuke sighed softly. They looked important—perhaps they were what Morgana and Akira had left of their parents.

He stepped forward quietly, though that was short-lived, when he accidentally kicked aside a Jack Frost plush, waking Mona up to make him meow. Uncle and nephew turned to look at him, and Yusuke blushed.

A moment ruined, as always. He could curse his own careless self, at this point.

Instead, Katsuya gave him a soft smile, and Morgana waved him over. He nodded, tentatively taking the chair from the desk across Akira’s bed, settling down on it next to the two.

“Good evening.” He greeted mildly, and Morgana smiled at him tiredly.

“Hi.” He said, melting into the soft, slow strokes of Katsuya’s hand over his hair.

“So, you’re Akira’s boyfriend.” Katsuya said, and Yusuke’s blush deepened. True to his career, the older Suou jumped straight to business, didn’t he?

“N-no, not quite.” Yusuke fiddled with the hem of his shirt nervously. “It may be safer to say we harbour mutual romantic feelings, but as for actual resolution… there was a problem.”

Katsuya raised an eyebrow at that.

“Oh, yeah…” Morgana sighed, but offered no other explanation. Yusuke looked at the boy witheringly, but the older man nodded.

“Very well.” Katsuya hummed. “If you don’t mind me asking, may I hear your side about this entire story? I understand you are a victim by extension—only your master was ever involved in the conspiracy, so I wondered how you find yourself directly involved in all this.”

Morgana peered at Yusuke with mild interest. “Akira’s only ever told me his side of the story.” His lips spread into a wide, impish grin, and relief filled Yusuke’s heart. It seemed, at least, the boy was doing better now. “Gross mushy lovey-lovey parts and all.”

“O-oh.” Yusuke stammered. “Well, Suou-san, I—”

“Katsuya is fine.” The brunet gave him a smile, and Morgana snickered.

“You can call him Uncle Katsuya too, if you wanna.” He said, and the two men spluttered with embarrassment. “C’mon! We all already know he’s gonna end up with Akira, so he’s practically family at this point!”

“I-I’m flattered, but—” Yusuke began, but Katsuya shook his head, toying with a lock of his hair.

“Well, I suppose that is true…”

Yusuke’s blush deepened. “Baby steps, please.” He cleared his throat. “Well, Akira and I know each other from my times seeing him at a flower shop, Rafflesia.”

“Ah, yes. Akira worked there part-time, Morgana said.”

“Yes, sir.” Yusuke couldn’t help saying, and the man sighed fondly. “I went there regularly to purchase white lilies for my mother’s shrine, and over the times I was there, Akira and I got to know each other. The entire time, I had no idea about The Metaverse, until Haru-san’s hired investigator, Ichiko Ohya, told me about my teacher’s involvement in it. I decided I just _had_ to see the truth for myself, but…” He rubbed his arm. “I believe I got more than what I bargained for.”

“Ah, so you had wanted to simply see what your teacher was up to, but found the rest of the narrative along with it.” Katsuya nodded.

Yusuke nodded. “However, I had no idea Akira was there until… today, a little earlier while I talked to Haru-san for the first time.” Katsuya eyed him witheringly, and he felt his cheeks burn. “Prior to that, I had been going into The Metaverse… undercover as my teacher’s representative, winning nights with Jok—ah, _Akira_ to talk to him.”

“Something happened between the two of you.” Morgana said, “Akira said you broke his heart.”

Katsuya gaped at Yusuke, and the younger man nodded in shame.

“I fear that I may have done so without realising it.” He admitted, “The last night I was at The Metaverse, I was drugged by Goro Akechi to sleep with Akira. I couldn’t remember what happened, and the next day, I denied what happened that night to Akira, inadvertently breaking his heart.” Yusuke deflated. “Akechi threatened me with releasing a video of our… lovemaking if I ever returned to The Metaverse.”

“And will you?” Katsuya asked, and Yusuke met his eye determinedly.

“Absolutely, if it meant saving Akira.”

The man smiled at him slowly, and nodded. “I think I can leave my nephew in your hands, young man.” He patted Yusuke’s shoulder firmly, and the artist smiled at him sheepishly.

“Many thanks.” He murmured, and Morgana gave him a thumbs-up.

“Welcome to the family, I guess.” He said, but the smile couldn’t reach his eyes, and Yusuke’s heart sank at the sight of him. “N-now, all th-that’s left is… g-getting… Akira back.”

His words dissolved quickly into a sob, and Katsuya hushed him gently, wiping away his tears as Yusuke looked at him apologetically.

“S-sorry.” The boy stammered, “I just—I—I _told_ him I didn't want to lose him, and now he's _gone_ and I'm scared he'll end up like our dads and—”

“Hush, now.” Katsuya said soothingly, “I swear, I will do all I can in my power to find him. I won't stop now—I won't give up.” He looked at Yusuke, determination in his eyes. “And I know you will not either.”

“Of course.”

“Hey, uh. Suou, Kitagawa, Morgana.”

Yusuke jumped to see Sojiro peering at them from the stairwell, and the man rubbed the back of his neck, an apologetic expression on his face.

“Arsene’s placing a call to Iwai right now. You might wanna come down to listen in.”

* * *

“Is everyone here? Good.” Sae said sternly, and she looked over the crowd she had gathered.

Ann and Ryuji sat next to each other on Akira’s bed, and Makoto settled down to stand beside her, seated on an armchair pulled from Akira’s vanity to face them all. Futaba was crouched on top of a pillow on the ground, using Mishima as a stand for her laptop as she typed away at something Sae couldn’t see. The young man in question was eyeing her worriedly, and behind him, Iwai remained silent, brooding over something on his phone, not even looking at her.

She opened her mouth to speak, only to have Iwai’s phone suddenly ring loudly in the silent air around them. Ann looked at him witheringly, but he ignored her, answering it curtly.

“Who's this?” He demanded, and he paused for a moment, eyebrow raising. “What?”

“Iwai-san?” Mishima ventured, but Iwai clicked his tongue and set his phone to speakerphone.

“ _Hello._ ” A rich, deep voice said, “ _My name is Arsene Lupin._ ”

“Arsene!” Futaba gasped, getting up on her feet. “The hell happened to keepin’ your ID a secret?”

The man laughed, rumbling and handsome, while the rest of the room looked at her in alarm.

“ _Desperate times call for desperate measures._ ” Arsene replied. “ _To the rest of you in the room, I do believe you know me better as Satanael._ ”

“Satanael…!” Sae’s eyes widened. “Hold on.” She looked through her phone, and her eyes widened. “Hold on a minute—are you _the_ Arsene Lupin that Interpol has been looking for?”

Futaba looked at her witheringly.

“ _Oui._ ” Arsene purred, and Sae bristled.

“After we rescue Akira, I'm throwing you straight into the slammer.” She snarled. “To think, you actually killed Detective Robin Ganimard right in this casino—”

“ _Mademoiselle, I am a man of many talents, but I am not a murderer._ ” The warmth in Arsene’s voice was suddenly gone, replaced with a frigidity that sent chills down their spines, and Futaba deflated.

“Sae-san, knock it off.” She said. “He's here to help.”

“You _know_ him?” She hissed, “All this time, and you never said a word?”

“I-I mean,” Futaba stammered, her cheeks turning red. “H-how else was Akira gonna get dirt on everyone? I mean, sure, we've got an operation outing major players in The Metaverse, but hacking and sleeping around—no offence, Ann—”

“N-none taken?”

“Thanks—those things can only do so much.”

“ _Eloquent as always, mademoiselle Sakura._ ” Arsene said mildly. “ _However, I agree. We must set aside our differences to save Akira and end The Metaverse. I recently received a message from your friend Munehisa Iwai—_ ”

“I'm right here.” The man gruffly said, and they looked at him. “Akira asked me to plant someone inside the yakuza. We'd hoped Shido would use them as security, and I guess we were lucky.”

“ _And he sent you the address._ ”

“Yeah.” Iwai rubbed the back of his neck. “Then I sent it to you, since Akira told me to let you know, if ever.”

“ _Ah, I see._ ”

Ryuji groaned, rubbing his head. “Goddamn. Akira’s got fingers effin’ _everywhere._ ”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Ann sighed. “So, first things first.” She looked at Sae, worry on her face. “Why’d you have us all called over here?”

“Ryuji and I had the… _pleasure_ ,” she said disdainfully, scowling, “To speak with Crow earlier. It seems that the reason we were unable to contact Akira was because Shido had decided to keep him for himself.”

The small group gaped at her, and Ann gasped softly, covering her mouth with her hands.

“No…!” She breathed, “But—that means—what about Morgana?”

“Hey, chill.” Ryuji said, though his own voice was brittle over his anger, squeezing her hand reassuringly. She sighed, and leaned on his side, nodding at Sae to continue.

“H-hold on, but if Shido kept Kurusu to himself, how’s he gonna pay his own debt off?” Mishima asked, holding up his hand. “I mean… I thought he was raking in some serious cash with Kurusu as Crown Jewel…”

“He said that it was likely due to our operations. We’ve been outing his feelers—customers of The Metaverse—one by one to the media.” Sae continued. “Thanks to Futaba-chan’s hacking work, Ann and Akira’s… job and this… Lupin person, we’d been gathering evidence we could use to land criminals into prison, save for the High Limit players.”

Makoto sighed, rubbing her arm. “And we were so close to outing one, too…” She mumbled, “Kamoshida…”

“Yes.” Sae sighed, shaking her head. “On top of that, there is something else—Crow said that another police officer was supposed to die tonight.” She crossed her arms and looked at her sister, whose eyes widened at her words. “Makoto—he said you may know more about it. He was supposed to show up at the Tokyo PD today, but he’d apparently gone off the grid this morning when he arrived from Sumaru City.”

“I…” Makoto deflated. “Yes, I’d heard some rumours in the PD that someone from the Sumaru City Police Department went AWOL to go to Tokyo. Someone was supposed to intercept him at the bullet train station, but it’s like he completely dropped off the grid the moment he arrived here.”

“Who is he?” Ann asked, frowning.

“I don’t know.” Makoto sighed. “Recently more and more journalists had been popping up dead on the news, right? I stole a look at some investigation records—”

“Whoa! You finally managed to do something like that?” Futaba cackled, and the brunette eyed her witheringly.

“Futaba-chan…” She shook her head. “The journalists were all investigating the deaths of our parents and Isshiki-san, as well as The Orpheus. They got… cleaned up by Shido’s people, so I think Shido’s very conscious about The Orpheus’s case opening up again.” She tapped her chin in thought. “So this officer from Sumaru City was probably someone who had been intimately related to the investigation into our family—”

“ _Senior Inspector Katsuya Suou._ ” A new voice said from the phone, and Makoto practically jumped out of her skin. “ _It’s a pleasure to meet you all._ ”

“Suou…?” Makoto breathed. “You—our parents, they knew a Suou.”

“Tatsuya Suou.” Sae nodded. “Husband to the late Jun Kurosu.”

“ _Yes._ ” The man replied. “ _He was my younger brother, and he was the principal investigator on the affairs of the Orpheus Theater._ ” There was a moment’s pause, and he huffed. “ _It’s also a pleasure to know that I made the right decision in not reporting to the Tokyo PD. Not that I had a choice, but it seems Shido already knows of my movements. Unsurprising that he would be keeping an eye on me, but still._ ”

“So that’s it.” Makoto frowned. “That’s why he took Akira. First—to prevent this team from acting, and second, to keep Suou-san quiet.”

“Why would he, though?” Ann asked, “What does Akira have to do with Suou-san?”

“ _I am his uncle._ ” Katsuya said pointedly.

“Ah, and the pieces fall into place.” Sae sighed.

“W-wait, so that means—” Makoto shook her head. “If Suou-san is Akira’s uncle, then he’s also Morgana’s uncle, and your younger brother… Kurosu-san…”

“Akira’s more relevant to The Metaverse than we thought.” Sae finished.

“ _Rightfully so._ ” Arsene agreed, “ _Therefore, we must save him. If Shido has taken him, then it means the address from monsieur Iwai is where he is._ ”

“Yeah.” Futaba nodded. “Right now, Akira should be searching for the Nijima will. We have to recover it from him in order to finally seal the case shut, Sae-san.”

The woman frowned deeply, and nodded.

“There is a possibility that Shido will attempt to stop us.” Makoto said, “Taking Akira will cause two outcomes that I’m sure they’ve already predicted—one, we will stay quiet until Akira’s safety is assured, and two—”

“We move.” Ryuji cut her off, his expression fierce, and he punched his hand. “There’s no effin’ way I’m just gonna sit here and wait for him to come back. He ain’t coming back if we don’t do anything.”

“Yeah.” Ann nodded. “He’s risking his life finding that will to save all of us. We’ve gotta save _him_ too.”

A fond huff came from the phone.

“ _I am glad Akira has found friends in such selfless people._ ” Katsuya said. “ _Thank you, all of you, for being there for him when I could not._ ”

Makoto smiled fondly. “It’s the very least we can do for him.” She said confidently, “He’s saving us, so we’re returning the favour.”

Ryuji grinned wider.

“He’s our friend, Suou-san. We’ll do whatever shit to get him back.”

* * *

Akechi turned off the live feed from Akira’s penthouse suite, sighing deeply as he buried his face in his hands as he curled up in his seat, feet up on the chair.

He would do anything Shido told him to—he was his son, he needed to help his father, his father _needed_ him. He said so himself, that only Akechi could help him.

He would _kill_ — _has killed_ —for Shido, but Akira—

_The boy dragged himself over to Akechi’s side, and squeezed his hand._

“ _Are you okay?_ ” He asked softly.

Akira was different. He wasn’t Shido, and he looked Akechi right in the eye that fateful night they first met.

_“I’m a complete stranger,”_ he had said, voice and throat in raw, bleeding ribbons, and Akechi’s heart tore into the same strips, mixing with Akira’s bleeding voice at the sound of his concern. _“But you…”_

Akira had been thinking of him, his own well-being, despite being beaten and bruised, burned and drugged to hell and back, bearing the remnants of his rape— _their_ rape, like battlescars.

No one had done that to him so honestly before—especially not in a situation like that.

Akechi didn’t know why he pulled himself upright to look Akira over, though somewhere deep inside him, he could see a sliver of himself in Akira, bleeding and broken and frightened as he was then.

Akechi’s hands shook like they were frozen with ice, and he cupped Akira’s swelling cheeks in his hands gingerly.

“ _Are you… are_ you _okay?_ ” He threw Akira’s question back at him, not even answering Akira’s question, and the boy didn’t answer either.

Both of them knew they never would be _okay,_ not after _this_.

_“Thanks.”_ His answer had been different, opting for honesty instead of false reassurance, and Akira had smiled so beautifully even past the scars on his body—on his heart. Akechi found a new emotion blossoming in his chest as he blinked at him wonder.

He wanted to protect that smile. He wanted to love that smile—

So he kissed him, just once, just gently, and Akechi first learned of love.

Taking a deep breath, Akechi steeled himself and looked forlornly down at his phone, which rested innocently on the table next to his laptop.

_Find the other Suou boy and bring him to me. I’ll kill him myself right in front of him to get this bitch to shut up._

Not this time, he thought. He would do anything for Shido, but this had crossed the line.

It was about time he decided which one of them—Shido, or Akira—was more important, and Akechi had had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 30 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> “So, about Detective Ganimard’s murder.” Katsuya began, and Arsene’s smile seemed to falter slightly. “Tell me the truth of that night, Lupin-san. I can't breathe easy thinking of working with a possible murderer.”
> 
> “He didn't murder him,” Yusuke said, and Katsuya looked at him. The young man blushed slightly, carefully supporting a now-asleep Morgana. “He said he was one of the first few that Akira saved.”
> 
> Katsuya looked at Arsene for confirmation, and the man nodded. 
> 
> “Robin—er, _Monsieur Ganimard_ had been on my tail on and off, as you should know.”
> 
> “Yes.” Katsuya replied. “He was the only person who ever managed that feat.”
> 
> Arsene’s smile was sad, and Yusuke's eyes widened in realisation.  
> No, not sad—
> 
> Heartbroken. 
> 
> “Yes. He was the only person I ever allowed the privilege of following me.” Arsene sighed, swirling his cup of coffee, absently looking into the dark liquid. “He truly cornered me once, and I… despite our differences, I respect his tenacity. He was… different.”
> 
> Different, he said. Yusuke thought the same of Akira, and his heart sank. 
> 
> “You loved him.” He said suddenly, and Arsene laughed softly. 
> 
> “Loved… is a very strange term to use for what we had.”


	30. avec vim et vigueur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (with vim and vigour)
> 
> “You loved him.” He said suddenly, and Arsene laughed softly. 
> 
> “Loved… is a very strange term to use for what we had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [here's a spinoff](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12281205) please read the tags for warnings. 
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

“Well then, I suppose that settles things.” Arsene smiled at his phone, looking right at Katsuya, who nodded determinedly.

“We will continue to be on standby for any updates from Akira.” He said.

“ _Thank you very much. We have to stay in The Metaverse to avoid suspicion, so please take care and good luck._ ” Makoto replied. “ _To Lupin-san, please be careful. Aside from Akira there is also Iwai-san’s part-timer you have to worry about. Please have them both back safely._ ”

“I have the most reliable partner for that.” The thief smirked, and he looked at Yusuke, who had been sitting there silently the whole time, next to Morgana, who was already looking ready to fall asleep. “Until we meet again, my friends.”

“ _Until next time, Lupin-san._ ”

Arsene hung up, sighing deeply as he bore the weight of Katsuya’s suspicious staring at him. “Yes, officer,” he laughed tiredly. “I am, in fact, the thief the world is looking for.”

“Arsene Lupin.” Katsuya shook his head. “And I wondered why—for a man of your status—you shared the name with a commonplace thief.”

“Ah, but I am no commonplace thief.” Arsene chuckled, “I am a _gentleman_ thief.”

“I bet you tell that to all the ladies.” Sojiro snorted.

“And gents.” Arsene winked at him.

“So, about Detective Ganimard’s murder.” Katsuya began, and Arsene’s smile seemed to falter slightly. “Tell me the truth of that night, Lupin-san. I can't breathe easy thinking of working with a possible murderer.”

“He didn't murder him,” Yusuke said, and Katsuya looked at him. The young man blushed slightly, carefully supporting a now-asleep Morgana. “He said he was one of the first few that Akira saved.”

Katsuya looked at Arsene for confirmation, and the man nodded.

“Robin—er, _Monsieur Ganimard_ had been on my tail on and off, as you should know.”

“Yes.” Katsuya replied. “He was the only person who ever managed that feat.”

Arsene’s smile was sad, and Yusuke's eyes widened in realisation.

No, not sad—

Heartbroken.

“Yes. He was the only person I ever allowed the privilege of following me.” Arsene sighed, swirling his cup of coffee, absently looking into the dark liquid. “He truly cornered me once, and I… despite our differences, I respect his tenacity. He was… different.”

Different, he said. Yusuke thought the same of Akira, and his heart sank.

“You loved him.” He said suddenly, and Arsene laughed softly.

“Loved… is a very strange term to use for what we had.”

Yusuke deflated. “I… see.”

“Nevertheless, as a gentleman thief who cared for his detective dearly, I made it a mission to bring him to the most beautiful parts of the world, to see it as a wholesome, amazing place as I did.” He chuckled softly. “Ah, but he told me something that sealed my heart to his.”

“What was it?” Yusuke asked, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Barring context, we were in Florence, his hand in mine, he told me he had eyes for only me.”

Katsuya huffed. “With context?”

“He had a gun to my head and a handcuff around our wrists,” Arsene laughed. “As we stood together at the Piazzale Michelangelo, watching the sun rise.”

“So this was after a heist.” Katsuya sighed.

“Before it, actually.” Arsene corrected him. “And yes, I did get what I was after.”

The brunet looked at him witheringly, and the man laughed, a warm, full-bodied one, and Yusuke realised it was the most honest thing he had ever heard from the Frenchman.

“Ah, apologies. I rarely think back to my idyll days with Robin out of what I can only describe as grief, I wanted to savour this moment where I do not remember him with that tint of longing and broken hearted nostalgia.” He smiled. “Well—moving on. I came to Japan in the hopes of showing him Tokyo’s beautiful night skyline. I led him to The Metaverse to help me in our usual turn of exploits—I didn't quite intend on playing games, though I had the habit of fixating on pretty little things.”

“Comes with the occupation.” Katsuya drawled, and Arsene hummed fondly.

“True.” He said. “And I truly must apologise—Akira was certainly quite the diamond in the rough at the time. I know how to spot treasure among trash, and he drew me to him like a moth to a flame.” Katsuya glowered at him, and Arsene lifted his hands defensively.

“Do not take it that way—I didn’t go after Akira to sleep with him.” Arsene said, “I thought he was one of the more expensive ones—perhaps he had something of worth stealing.”

He put the coffee cup down with a sigh. “Unfortunately, at the time, Akira was cheap as dirt. He only had a standard hotel room to his codename, and his extensive network of friendships had yet to spread.”

Katsuya frowned, and nodded for him to continue.

“As I was talking to Akira, Robin was shot down by someone in the casino. I abandoned my efforts with Akira to hurry to his side, and I tried calling for help. My efforts were quickly turned to blame and I was pinned his murderer.” Arsene’s expression darkened. “If I had known he was being targeted that night, I would have…” he shook his head. “No, there is no use wishing for other outcomes. Robin died in my arms that night, and Akira spoke on my behalf to provide a solid alibi. Staff cleaned out the mess and Robin’s body, giving me Akira’s evening for the trouble.”

“A cheap prostitute to pay for damages that nearly cost you your freedom.” Katsuya snarled. “How backhanded of them.”

“It did not surprise me in the least.” Arsene replied. “That night, as I mourned Robin’s death, Akira asked me of a favour.”

“What was the favour?”

“That I would train him, help him be so important to Shido that he wouldn't get rid of him, no matter what.”

Yusuke’s eyes widened. “You… are the reason Akira is Crown Jewel.”

“Yes and no.” Arsene shrugged. “I taught him how to seduce his way to the top, and much to my surprise, he managed. The spirit that boy has… it is astounding.”

Katsuya looked down at his clenched fists. “Akira…”

“His position as Crown Jewel gave him access to many, many things, including High Limit players—the biggest feelers Shido employs as his connections everywhere. As Crown Jewel, Akira could seduce information out of them, have me and his friends gather evidences of their crimes, and then their team would release the evidence to the public. This brought them to justice, and it allowed us to dismantle Shido’s network from the bottom up. However, as mademoiselle Nijima said, it seems Shido has finally picked up on our activities.”

“Wait—one of the young ladies on the other side mentioned something about your identity.” Katsuya said. “You are a fugitive helping this small group, but for what gain? I am sure you have some semblance of honour, but you couldn't have helped my nephew without some incentive.”

“I did have some incentive, yes.” Arsene rubbed his fingers together. “Akira promised to me that he would avenge everyone.”

Awe crossed Yusuke and Katsuya’s faces.

“Everyone—from his friends, to The Orpheus, the journalists killed while investigating the Nijimas. His parents, his family—his Yusuke Kitagawa,” Yusuke blushed at that, and Arsene chuckled. “My Robin Ganimard.”

Katsuya deflated. “Oh, Akira… you… you really are like him, aren't you.”

“His father?” Arsene smiled, “Tatsuya? Yes, I do think so as well. I heard from Akira his pursuit of Shido’s sins was for The Orpheus, for all his friends who lost far too much, and for his husband, as well.”

“Yes.” Katsuya lowered his head. “I find myself wishing sometimes that he would not chase such dangerous things, but…”

“Then the truth would always stay hidden.” Yusuke said, and the man laughed sadly, nodding.

“Indeed.”

“Well, then. It is getting late.” Arsene said cheerfully. “No doubt Madarame would be looking for his young Yusuke, so I will take him home myself.”

“Ah, of course.” Katsuya nodded. “I… I will take Morgana upstairs to bed.”

“You got a place to stay, Suou?” Sojiro asked, and Katsuya shook his head.

“Miss Okumura had offered me a room in a hotel in Shibuya and I have already checked in, but…” he smiled softly. “Tonight, I’d like to stay with Morgana.” He paused, and blushed slightly. “Please.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Sojiro smiled at him, tipping his hat at the man. “You can take Akira’s bed for the time being.”

“Thank you very much, Sakura-san.” Katsuya nodded, and he looked at Yusuke. “I’ll take him.” The younger man nodded, gently handing Morgana over to his uncle, and he smiled warmly at the sight of Katsuya carrying the sleeping boy back up the stairs. Arsene turned to look at Yusuke, and grinned.

“Come now, Fox. Let’s get you home.”

Yusuke nodded, following Arsene to the door, and before he left he gave a polite bow to Sojiro.

“Thank you very much for everything this afternoon.” He said, and the man gave him a friendly smile. “Before I go, may I ask where Haru-san went?”

“Oh, she had something important to do.” Sojiro gestured at Arsene, who remained grinning knowingly. “Something about renting out an apartment for a night. Ask him about it later.”

“R-right.” Yusuke nodded. “Good night, Sojiro-san.”

“I bid you _adieu_ , monsieur Sakura.” Arsene gave him a wave, and the man gave them both an answering wave, before turning to clean up his cafe. Arsene jerked his head at Yusuke for him to follow him, and after politely closing Leblanc’s door behind him, Yusuke followed after the Frenchman out onto the main road.

His eyes widened at the sight of a sleek, black car parked just by the side of the road, and he looked at Arsene in shock.

“Yes, she would be mine.” He chuckled, pulling off his glove to press his hand to the handlebar, and much to Yusuke’s surprise, the doors unlocked. Putting his glove back on, Arsene settled down on the driver’s seat, and Yusuke hesitantly got into the passenger seat next to him. “A beautiful, sleek little Audi that purrs like a sweet little kitten.” Arsene explained, hand sliding over the shifter lever with a sensuality that had Yusuke blushing. “[The R8 Spyder](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/904721268414361601). I had been a rather basic Ferrari man myself, until I had been made acquainted with my beautiful little spider.”

“O-oh.” Yusuke wasn’t one who knew a lot about cars, but he watched Arsene turn the engine on with the press of a button, eyes wide in curious amazement. As promised, the engine turned on with a low purr, and he hummed appreciatively. “How did you get it?”

“An admirer gifted it to me.” Arsene smiled, and Yusuke gaped at the man. “Lovely young man, woefully lovestruck. Still, I did give him a night he wouldn’t forget.” He chuckled darkly. “The rope burns last usually a month. He took photographs—they lasted longer.”

Yusuke’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. “I-I see.”

“Now, listen to me carefully—there _is_ a way to set you free for the nights out in The Metaverse without your teacher suspecting a thing.”

Yusuke frowned, determined, and nodded. “Tell me.”

* * *

“So, you’re positive this woman knows something?”

“ _Yeah, positive. Unless somehow our favourite rumormongers have failed us now, of all times._ ”

Maya winced. She knew how bad things could get, like that. Chasing after a force like Masayoshi Shido was difficult—it was like climbing a wall without footholds or anything to grab on. You had to rely on everything you had—fight tooth and nail for a result— _any_ result.

And that meant she and her colleagues had to go _shady_.

“Okay, Ichiko-chan.” She sighed, “Man, it’s been ages since we worked together like this, huh?”

“ _Yeah._ ” The woman on the other side giggled. “ _It’s like college all over again. I really missed this._ ”

Maya couldn’t help but smile at that. “Me too. Well, we’re about to meet the informant—I’ll hit you up later.”

“ _Sure thing. Take care of yourselves out there._ ”

“You too.”

The car came to a stop in front of a beef bowl joint, and Yukki looked at her pointedly.

“We ready to chase down a will?” She grinned, and Maya smiled back at her.

“You bet!”

Yukki’s grin widened. “Awesome. Brief me on the sitch. What’ve we got?”

“Okay—so a friend picked up a lead about the Nijimas and their will.” Maya said, frowning down at her notes on her phone. “Eikichi said there was a rumour about Hamuko Nijima making a will at a separate law firm. The lawyer who took the job moved here to Sumaru, so we’ve got to find her and ask her about it.”

“Hm.” Yukki frowned.

“Something wrong?” Maya asked, cocking her head at her, and Yukki shook her head.

“It’s just… odd.” She replied, “Suppose there is a second will to The Orpheus, and suppose it says the same thing Akihiko Nijima’s will says, why would there be a need to make it?”

Maya paused. “Huh. You’re right.”

“Unless… the Nijimas knew they were going to be killed. Unless they somehow _knew_ what was going to happen to The Orpheus.” Yukki grinned slowly. “The plot thickens.”

“Yukki.” Maya sighed fondly, shaking her head in exasperation. “I think it’s a failsafe. A lot of people knew about Akihiko Nijima’s will, from the looks of it—Miss Okumura knew, that team outing Metaverse players knows—I think Shido knows it, too.”

“How many people do you think knew there was a second will?” Yukki asked, and Maya shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” She replied, “Well, for now, let’s validate the existence of it first. Then we can go looking for it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yukki nodded, and turned off the car engine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 31 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> “Even now?” He asked, and Hifune jumped, whirling around to look at him. 
> 
> “U-um, excuse me?”
> 
> “Even now.” Akechi repeated. “Despite all that you saw just now—do you still like me?”
> 
> Hifune paused at that, and hummed thoughtfully. 
> 
> “Thought so.” Akechi sighed. “Look, just leave me in the lob—”
> 
> “Yeah, I think.” Hifune replied, and the brunet blinked at him. 
> 
> “You're an absolute moron.” He deadpanned. 
> 
> “Yowch.” Hifune winced, but he was smiling. “Man, you’ve got a sweet face but the tongue… not so much.” 
> 
> “Best not to put your heroes on pedestals.” Akechi huffed. “Why? You’ve seen what I’d been up to. I’d been dealing with the yakuza. I’ve been working for _Masayoshi Shido_. The big guy of all big guys in the government, among crime rings.” He shook his head, crossing his arms. “ _How can you still believe in me?_ ”
> 
> “Because you’re a victim of this, too.” Hifune replied, and the clear honesty in his eyes made Akechi want to throw up. The blond smiled, and squeezed his hand. “I could see it in the way you never really smile on TV. You never talk about your past, your answers had always been so neutral and careful. I mean, just earlier, Shido was beating the shit out of you. You couldn’t have asked for all that, couldn’t you?”
> 
> “What people ask for and what they deserve are completely different things, Hifune-san.” He snapped back. How on _earth_ was this kid so damn _positive?_
> 
> “What they deserve.” Hifune echoed, and the elevator doors dinged, sliding open. Akechi strode out of the elevator as best as he could, wincing at the groans and creaks of pain his body made him feel, and he jumped when he felt Hifune’s hand, gentle and kind, on his shoulder. “What makes you think you deserved all that?”


	31. le corbeau avec des ailes cassées

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the crow with broken wings)
> 
> “ _How can you still believe in me?_ ”
> 
> “Because you’re a victim of this, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goro akechi....... needs some milk..........
> 
> hi i'm just projecting all my feelings about goro on my oc please bear with me i love goro akechi he needs to be protected, please help him ~~im one of two people in the sena/goro crackship please don't join me the dinghy will sink jk i wish for death pls join me in the dinghy~~
> 
> in other news i've just hit chapter 41 on the doc, and no, it's not yet over, no matter what my twitter feed says.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

“So? Where is he?”

“Who, sir.”

The hand collided with his cheek with a crisp  _smack_ , and Akechi steeled himself to not fall over. He swayed precariously on his feet, unsteady and off-kilter thanks to the blow Shido dealt, and he allowed himself to reach up to cup his throbbing cheek in his hand.

“Morgana,  _boy._ ” Shido snarled, “Where the _fuck_ is Morgana? I thought I told you to bring him to me, you foolish brat.”

“When I came to Leblanc, he was gone.” Akechi lied through his teeth. He could taste blood on his tongue, but he forced himself not to panic—not to show any form of weakness to the cruel man that was his father.

“Suou.” The man spat, shaking his head as he threw Akechi to the ground himself. The brunet made no sound as he collided with the floor, though he could feel the other yakuza guards back away slowly from father and son. “That bastard—” the man shook his head and whirled around to glare at Akechi. “And you hadn't managed to take care of him, haven't you?”

Akechi squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to get up or answer.

“You useless child.” Shido scoffed, kicking him in the gut, and Akechi doubled over on the floor, wincing as he held back the burn of pain coming up his throat. “Get out of my sight—I'll call again if I ever decide to use you, you piece of trash. I should have left you with your shit mother in that rathole when I had the chance.”

Akechi curled up on himself, and simply lay there, listening to Shido’s retreating footsteps. When he was sure he was gone, he turned over, wincing, to see the room had been vacated—save for a single young man.

The blond Iwai sent into the yakuza as Akira’s single, thin connection. In the haze of his confused, pain-addled mind, Akechi couldn't remember his name, but his mind was shocked into stark clarity when the blond helped him sit up.

“Sorry.” He said meekly. “I… just couldn't leave you lying there.”

“You should have.” Akechi grit out, though he didn't protest when the blond began hauling him up on his feet, slinging his arm over his shoulders.

“Hey, uh…” the blond looked off to the side, blushing slightly. “I'm Sena Hifune.”

Ah, Hifune—now Akechi remembered his name.

“I'm… uh, I guess now’s a stupid time to say this, but… well, I'm a big fan.”

Akechi blinked at the blond as they made their way to the door leading out of the apartment, and Hifune scratched his cheek awkwardly.

“Yeah. Knew it. Weird.”

“No, it's… fine.” Akechi winced as Hifune’s hand squeezed a tender spot, and pained, moved out of the way.

“Yikes, sorry!” The blond stammered, helping Akechi get into a better position as they walked down the hallway to get to the elevator.

“Where are you taking me?” Akechi asked dryly, and Hifune blushed deeper.

“Uh, I was hoping maybe a hospital? Or at least, somewhere you can rest. Dietma—uh, Shido did a number on you.”

Akechi wearily looked at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors—he had bruises blossoming on his face, his neck—and he knew there were more on his body. He had to get better, and quickly.

“I know a place.” He said. “The trains have stopped operations by now. Just leave me alone in the lobby.”

“Nah, it's cool. I can hail us a taxi.” Hifune grinned at him, and the elevator doors dinged open. He helped Akechi into the elevator, and pressed the number back to the ground floor. Akechi leaned heavily on the glass wall, peering at the blond, and sighed.

“Even now?” He asked, and Hifune jumped, whirling around to look at him.

“U-um, excuse me?”

“Even now.” Akechi repeated. “Despite all that you saw just now—do you still like me?”

Hifune paused at that, and hummed thoughtfully.

“Thought so.” Akechi sighed. “Look, just leave me in the lob—”

“Yeah, I think.” Hifune replied, and the brunet blinked at him.

“You're an absolute moron.” He deadpanned.

“Yowch.” Hifune winced, but he was smiling. “Man, you’ve got a sweet face but the tongue… not so much.”

“Best not to put your heroes on pedestals.” Akechi huffed. “Why? You’ve seen what I’d been up to. I’d been dealing with the yakuza. I’ve been working for _Masayoshi Shido_. The big guy of all big guys in the government, among crime rings.” He shook his head, crossing his arms. “ _How can you still believe in me?_ ”

“Because you’re a victim of this, too.” Hifune replied, and the clear honesty in his eyes made Akechi want to throw up. The blond smiled, and squeezed his hand. “I could see it in the way you never really smile on TV. You never talk about your past, your answers had always been so neutral and careful. I mean, just earlier, Shido was beating the shit out of you. You couldn’t have asked for all that, couldn’t you?”

“What people ask for and what they deserve are completely different things, Hifune-san.” He snapped back. How on _earth_ was this kid so damn _positive?_

“What they deserve.” Hifune echoed, and the elevator doors dinged, sliding open. Akechi strode out of the elevator as best as he could, wincing at the groans and creaks of pain his body made him feel, and he jumped when he felt Hifune’s hand, gentle and kind, on his shoulder. “What makes you think you deserved all that?”

“Listen,” Akechi growled, balling a fist into Hifune’s collar. “I’ve killed people, and I remember every single name I’ve put on a tombstone. I’ve swindled countless others out of _everything_. I’ve cheated people into bankruptcy, I’ve blackmailed more people than any other god damned politician in the National Diet.” His fist shook as he pulled the blond closer to him. “ _I deserve this._ ”

“Well, certainly you’ve done terrible things.” Hifune said simply, but much to Akechi’s shock, he carefully pried his fingers out of his shirt with a smile, “And nothing about your past or your current state justifies your sins, to the point that maybe you won’t be forgiven—”

“ _See—_ ”

“But from the looks of things, you feel remorse.” Akechi’s eyes widened as the blond pressed on. “And... you didn’t commit all these terrible things by your own volition.”

“What do you mean by—”

“ _I thought I told you to bring him to me._ ” Hifune said, “Shido said that, right? He was making you do all this stuff. Like the Crown Jewel, you’re being coerced to do stuff you didn’t want to.” He scratched his cheek awkwardly. “And the commentary about your mom, uh… I guess that’s the leverage he has on you. This is just guessing games, but I guess he must have taken you from her and raised you or something.”

Akechi blinked at him. From that commentary alone, this… oddball figured him all out?

He laughed derisively, shaking his head. “You fool.” He said, and Hifune cocked his head. “Shido is my _father_.”

Hifune’s eyes widened. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.”

“Now leave me alone.” Akechi snarled. “I don’t have to listen to any of your pity.”

“You’re gonna grow bald when you’re like, 25.” Hifune continued, “ _That’s three years away._ ”

Akechi froze, and he blinked at the young man. Much to his shock, Hifune shook his head, grinning.

“I’m kidding.” He paused, “Okay, maybe there’s some truth to that.” Akechi rolled his eyes. “Hey, but listen! I still admire you—maybe even more now.” He beamed, and he picked Akechi up again gently, helping him walk to the doors out of the apartment building. “Deep down inside you, there’s a good person, I know it.”

Akechi scoffed.

“I mean it.” Hifune laughed softly. “You didn’t bring Morgana to Shido because something bad would happen to him. You didn’t kill that police officer guy, too.”

“I was being incompetent.”

“You chose _me_ , out all the proper yakuza guys in that group from Hashiba to help Akira-san out, right?” He continued, and Akechi jolted. “You paid for my hair job, too. You’ve got your own agenda, Akechi-kun,” the TV nickname rolled off his tongue easily, and Akechi couldn’t help but laugh derisively. “And you’re doing what you can to help, in your own way.”

Akechi blinked at him, and Hifune blushed deeper. “A-and, okay, you’re kinda pretty.” He admitted, “There.”

The admission was out of the blue, much like most of the things that came out of this oddball blond’s mouth, but Akechi couldn’t help but laugh, a true, honest laugh, and _god_ he hadn’t done that in ages. Hifune grinned at that, and Akechi shook his head.

“You really are a moron.” He said, “Go on, hail a taxi. I need to see Dr. Tae Takemi in Yongen-Jaya.”

“Yongen-Jaya. Right.” Hifune nodded, and the next few moments were a blur, until Akechi finally found himself sitting in the backseat of a taxi, his head resting on Hifune’s shoulder.

“Hey.” He said quietly, and Hifune hummed warmly. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Hifune chuckled, shaking his head. “Because I think that you deserve a second chance.” He replied, “I think, that maybe— _just maybe_ —all you needed was someone to tell you all this, even if you didn’t want them to.”

Akechi looked down at his hands. “No matter how many times a crow washes itself, it will never be any whiter.”

Hifune huffed. “But a crow remembers what others forget.” He replied, “And hey, they’re pretty cute.”

Akechi couldn’t help but laugh softly. He looked at the young man’s phone, watching him scroll through his Twitter feed, and sighed.

It was better to be safe than sorry, after all.

“Hey, what was your number again?” He asked, and Hifune looked like Christmas arrived early for him.

* * *

“Has anyone told you that you’re a huge idiot?”

Hifune flinched as he watched the short-haired doctor peeled open Akechi’s clothes to reveal the blooming bruises over his skin. The woman clicked her tongue in disapproval, shaking her head as she sat down on a rolling chair, before rolling it across the small space between the examination bed and her desk to look through her cabinets.

Hifune tried not to stare as she lifted her leg to pull the door delicately open, before lazily poking through the bottles inside. He tore his eyes away from her leg to look at Akechi, who had slowly sat up in the time Takemi had taken her eyes off him.

“Akechi-kun,” Hifune began to warn him, but the brunet hushed him.

“Akira has, a few times.” Akechi replied, and the doctor—Tae Takemi, her sign outside said—snorted, pausing in her search to roll her eyes at his response.

“Has anyone told you that you’re not that hilarious, either? And lie back down, who said you could sit up?”

“Not that I know of. I’m not known for my sense of humour.” Akechi’s grin was sardonic, but he lay back down obediently and Takemi finally found what she was looking for. She took out a bottle—a salve, Hifune wondered—and moved back to Akechi’s side to inspect his bruises.

“Ugh. I can see the print of that bastard’s shoe on your chest.” She said, and Akechi simply hummed as she opened the bottle, pressing a large cotton wad on its rim and tipping it over a few times, over and over. “What didn’t you do this time?” She asked, and began to gently wipe the salve over Akechi’s injuries.

“The usual.” Akechi’s answers were painfully dismissive, and Hifune bit his lip. He saw the way Takemi’s expression darkened at his response, and he couldn’t help but pity her.

It would do Akechi some good to be more honest, he thought.

“He protected Akira-san’s little brother from Shido.” He said, and she jumped, looking over her shoulder at him. Luckily, her hands were adept enough not to press down on Akechi’s injuries, though his remark had the brunet looking at him dryly over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Akechi-kun, but it really is for your own good if you were a little more honest.”

“Oh, I’d meant to ask,” Takemi said, turning back to Akechi’s bruises. “Who’s the thug wannabe?”

Hifune blushed deeply. “Yeah, yeah, I get it—I don’t look like a proper yakuza thug, I get it.” Takemi snickered, shrugging, and Akechi shook his head.

“He’s one of Akira’s. Iwai-san put him in Hashiba on Akira’s orders, and I assigned him to guard duty over at Shido’s apartment to help Akira out.”

“Huh, interesting.” Takemi didn’t _sound_ interested, and Hifune pouted petulantly at that. “Okay, Goro, listen—” At that, Hifune jumped. They were on first-name basis? “You keep taking Akira to me to get fixed up with a whole damn lecture on not getting himself killed, and then you show up, alone, with the exact same problem. When the hell are you going to start working together, huh?”

Hifune couldn’t speak out about it right now—it seemed too intimate for him to speak, and the way Akechi looked at him pointedly made it look like the brunet was asking him to stop the conversation.

No, he thought. Akechi needed to let whatever was inside him out.

“We _are_ working together.” Akechi shot back, flinching away from Takemi’s hands when the woman poked his bruise a little harder in irritation.

“ _Properly._ ” Takemi pressed, and Akechi averted his gaze from her. The doctor sighed exasperatedly, shaking her head. “What does it take for you to just… straighten things out? How about _this_ guy?” She jabbed her finger at Hifune, who jumped at the sudden shift of attention on him. “What does _he_ know?”

“Nothing.” Akechi replied, “Takemi-san, are we done here?”

The doctor let out an irritated exhale.

“Look, whatever it is you're doing, you need to stop it and change. _Now_.” She deadpanned. “You're going to get yourself killed out there, and however good a doctor I can be isn't gonna be able to fix that.”

“I know.” Akechi began shrugging his clothes back on, and Hifune’s heart sank. “That's the plan.”

* * *

“S-so, I, erm,” Yusuke’s cheeks felt like they were burning much worse than the time he watched Arsene practically _fondle_ his car’s shifter lever. “Lover. Yes.”

Madarame regarded Arsene with a wary eye, but the man simply remained smiling.

“You somehow managed to… make a new lover. In the span of a day.” The man repeated, and Arsene laughed, fake and all showbiz, the same laugh he used as Satanael in The Metaverse. Yusuke eyed his teacher wearily—if the man couldn’t even tell that Arsene was Satanael, he wondered why they even bothered with the whole lovers charade.

“Oh, we have met before.” Arsene’s words took on a different accent now, and his black curls were now golden blond. With the way he carried himself, Yusuke could swear he was walking with someone else.

So _this_ was the Phantom Thief that eluded the police all over the world, he thought with no small amount of wonder.

The tea Yusuke poured into clay cups was steadily growing cold between them on the coffee table, and Madarame crossed his arms, still suspicious.

“I saw him at your exhibit the other day, last Friday.” He said. “I had simply fallen in love with everything, but your young Yusuke was the most beautiful piece of the whole gallery.”

“Hm.” Madarame hummed. “And you said you were… the duke of what, again?”

“Devonshire.” Arsene replied pleasantly. “My father’s fortune has been going through quite the boon lately, and I plan on splurging, if it means I may have young Yusuke’s hand to hold.”

At his mention of a fortune, something twinkled in Madarame’s eye, and Yusuke resisted the urge to slouch in disappointment. Of course, his teacher would be blindsided by his greed and desire for money—Arsene posing as a wealthy, frivolously in love aristocrat was right on the nose on getting what they wanted with him.

“W-well, I _am_ still Yusuke’s legal guardian, I am practically his father—I just… I may need to see some proof of your wealth.” The old man huffed, tucking his hands into his yukata’s sleeves. “Duke… Albert Devin?”

Arsene’s smile widened, saccharine as he pulled out a small remote from his coat pocket. “This is for my Audi, parked right outside.” Madarame took the remote from him, eyes wide, and Arsene got up, making a show of helping the old man up onto his feet. “Come, come! You absolutely must go see it, sir. She’s marvellous.”

Arsene and Madarame strode to the front doors, leaving Yusuke in the living room, but he jumped when he saw Arsene peer at him over his shoulder, giving him a wink. The younger man sighed exasperatedly, and finally smiled.

“I can’t believe this is working.” He murmured, hearing Madarame’s praise muffled from outside, and he straightened up again when the two men returned. “Ah, sensei—”

“Your Albert is an interesting man, Yusuke!” Madarame grinned widely, “You should really spend more time with him!”

“I…” Yusuke gaped at him, before shaking his head to clear it. “Th-thank you for your approval, sensei…”

“Please, feel free to come by to see Yusuke whenever you like!” Madarame laughed brightly, smacking Arsene’s shoulder in delight, but the man barely flinched. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Duke Devin!”

“Likewise, sir!” Arsene said cheerfully, “Well, I must be off—I’ve more errands to run, and I’ve let my time with Yusuke run them all short!” He reached out for the younger man, and uncertainly, Yusuke took his hand, jumping when Arsene kissed his knuckles. “Until we meet again, my little fox.”

“I shall see you soon.” Yusuke replied, thankful he hadn’t tripped over his words. Arsene gave him a wink, and gave Madarame another bow, before leaving.

“Ah, Yusuke!” Madarame laughed, patting Yusuke’s arm in delight. “You’re learning, you’re learning. Good—you’ve caught the attention of someone influential, and someone _rich_.” The man leered, nodding. “Milk him for all he’s worth, my boy—we could always use another source of income.”

Yusuke laughed weakly, hiding his discomfort behind his clay cup of tea.

“Thank you, sensei.” He muttered, “I’ll… I’ll try my best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 32 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> “Ah, Mr. Madarame, good evening.”
> 
> “Good evening, Duke.” He greeted, “Will you be taking Yusuke out for dinner tonight?”
> 
> “If he’ll let me,” Arsene chuckled, taking Yusuke’s hand. “I know an absolutely wonderful place in Asakusa we can go to tonight.”
> 
> “By all means,” Madarame laughed, “Go with him, Yusuke. The both of you ought to enjoy each other’s company some more.”
> 
> “Thank you, sensei.” Yusuke bowed at him. “Let us go.”
> 
> “Of course.” Arsene bowed at Madarame again, and the two of them headed out of the museum to Arsene’s parked Audi outside its doors. “My, he’s really sucking up the disguise, isn’t he?”
> 
> “Please, don’t.” Yusuke replied flatly, and Arsene laughed as they got into the car. “Now, how am I supposed to go back into The Metaverse? Assuming Akechi has made good on his promise of erasing me there, I think he would have also terminated my registration…”
> 
> “I had a word with monsieur Iwai to have you registered under a different name.” Arsene grinned, handing him a card, and Yusuke blinked down at it. 
> 
> “Goemon… Ishikawa.” He read, and the man chuckled. 
> 
> “A famous bandit in Japanese history. I think it suits you quite well.” He replied. “I have booked a night in The Metaverse Hotel, and had your suit dry-cleaned and pressed this morning. It should be there in the suite right now.”
> 
> “And my mask?” 
> 
> “Oh, I think you will quite like your new mask.”


	32. pas pour longtemps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (not for long)
> 
> “Hey, um… you know a guy named Yusuke Kitagawa?”
> 
> “Ah, Yusuke…” Akira sighed, twisting a lock of his hair between his fingers. “Know is a very strange term to use for what we have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> squints this is a pretty weak chapter but i gotta get that exposition out of hte way eugh sorry
> 
> ~~and hey if you're falling into hifune/akechi hell prepare to sink a dinghy with me~~
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

Akira woke up with a start, gasping deeply as he looked up to see the canopy above his bed again. He felt his body screaming in protest again, and wincing, he sat up to realise he was covered in dry, sticky cum. The night before flashed behind his eyes as he looked down at the rope burns on his body, the bruises made by hands and lips all over his skin—

His eyes widened.

“Papa’s dress,” he gasped, turning to look to the side to realise the dress was—thankfully—intact, and innocently slung over the back of an armchair. He sighed in exhaustion, and thought back to the night before.

It was some small mercy that Shido’s selfishness was absolute. It meant Akira wouldn’t have to even go near Sudou, and he couldn't help but be grateful for that small detail. Shido also hadn't torn the dress while he took it off of Akira, tossing it aside carelessly at the armchair where it remained while Akira endured another night with the horrible man.

Small mercies, he thought. It was the little things that carried him through this.

Wincing, he pushed himself to get up, feeling joints pop and muscles ache in protest, but he managed to make his way to the bathroom, practically collapsing into the bathtub with a soft groan. Weakly he drew himself a bath, the water pleasantly hot against his skin as it began filling the tub. Akira lay back, sighing deeply as he blindly reached for whatever bottle was on the ledge of the bath, before tipping an unknown amount of soap into the water.

He didn't care if he was being wasteful—the fatigue was too much for him, and if he broke now, then the whole mission of finding the will would be for naught.

He soaked himself for a long time, immersing in sweet-smelling bubbles as he let the heat seep into his body, strength coming back in small, gentle gradients.

Last night, he had made a mistake—he let his anger get the best of him, and he threw a steak knife at Sudou. It landed in his shoulder, and Akira saw the man bleed, and _god_ did that feel good. Sudou deserved more than just a knife to his shoulder, but that wasn't the place and time for that. If he had done something much worse, then he could kiss that will goodbye.

He still had to let his friends know where he was, too. This wasn't the same apartment Arsene knew about—the one Shido previously occupied was in Chiyoda, near the National Diet, but Akechi had updated his information to let him know Shido was no longer living there. Instead, Akechi was, and he had searched the place from top to bottom only there was no will to be found anywhere.

This was someplace new—with how lavish the place was, and the turns and distance they travelled in the car, he would hazard a guess for it to be somewhere in Omote-sando. The will should be here—more protected now, with the additional yakuza guards in place.

He groaned softly. The yakuza. He was right to have Iwai slip someone into the yakuza for him, but he wasn’t sure if that was successful. With everything that had been going on, Akira never had the chance to check up on whether or not Iwai had been successful.

Well, worse comes to worst, he could improvise somehow.

When his head began to feel light, Akira got out of the bath, draining the water while relishing the feeling of being clean again. He dried himself off, and headed back into the bedroom to pick something relatively decent out of the closet.

He chose a transparent bralette made of soft pink chiffon and lace, pulling on a pair of matching panties, and he sighed exasperatedly as he looked in the mirror.

Still the same old Crown Jewel of The Metaverse, he thought dryly. Leaving that casino made no damn lick of change.

He took a look around the bottom of the closet to find no slippers, and shaking his head he decided to go barefoot. He stepped outside the bedroom to find the apartment mostly empty—save for two people by a large door at the far end of the living room. Akira glowered at them to see the older man had a tattoo sprawling up his neck from under his suit. He knew where that tattoo came from.

Yakuza guards, just like the night before. His blood boiled at the thought of it—Shido employed the yakuza to do his dirtiest work, and yet in the public continuously spoke out about controlling the crime rings that shook the country.

What a damn hypocrite.

“Aren't you Hashiba people?” Akira drawled, catching their attentions, and he quirked an eyebrow at them when the two men stuttered and turned their eyes away from Akira. “The hell? Haven't seen a naked guy before?”

“Not the Crown Jewel, no.” The older-looking one of the two said. “And not in… something like that.”

Akira rolled his eyes. _This_ was the so-called fearless family Iwai had come from? Maybe they really did need him back on the family, if all of their people were like that.

Ah, but then Kaoru would get lonely. He thought, and he shook his head, walking onwards through the apartment to inspect it further. The two jumped as Akira walked around, casually inspecting shelves of books he had no interest in, eyeing pieces of furniture that Akira knew some of them were from Arsene. There were two other doors that looked similar to the one he stepped out of, and after trying both of them, he found them locked. One of them had an extra deadbolt in it, and Akira squinted at it—this was probably the study Akechi told him about.

This was where the Nijima will was.

Heart racing, Akira forced himself to look away from the door—he had to find some way to pick the lock on it soon. Moving onwards, he looked at a painting on the wall—the Van Gogh Arsene had given Shido, and he scowled.

“So he didn’t sell it off, huh.”

“Wh-what do you think you’re doing?”

Akira groaned. Amateurs.

“You know,” he drawled, “I swear to god, if I wasn’t limping right now I’d beat your asses in.” He looked at them lazily over his shoulder, eyes sharpening into a severe glare. “Now leave me the hell alone, I’m gonna make breakfast.”

The two thugs shared nervous looks, but Akira shook his head, annoyed at them. “Where’s the kitchen?” He snapped, and the younger one awkwardly pointed at a doorway near the balcony. Akira strode over to it, huffing as he entered the kitchen. A quick look through the fridge and the drawers had him making a simple omelette on toast for breakfast, and though he didn’t prefer it, he had a pot of tea readied on the countertop as he settled down to eat.

One of the yakuza thugs—the younger one—stopped at the doorway, and blinked at him in surprise. Akira glowered back at him, half his breakfast in his mouth.

“What.” He didn’t want to bother with niceties—not right now, he wasn’t a prostitute trying to charm guests, and even then, charming the two thugs would get him nowhere. As if Shido would let them know anything even _close_ to a debilitating secret.

“You’re… eating.”

“Yes, people eat for breakfast.” Akira swallowed down his toast. Maybe he could go for seconds. “Shocking.” He drawled, and the thug deflated.

“It’s almost 11:30.” The blond said, then he stopped, and shook his head. “Sorry.” He just _had_ to apologise. This one must be new. “It’s just… really strange.”

“Strange how?” Akira poured himself a cup of tea, and frowned at it. It was nowhere near Leblanc’s coffee, but sacrifices had to be made.

He regretted not having one last cup with Sojiro and Futaba. He knew what it meant getting trapped in Shido’s apartment—

He was going to die in there, and strangely enough, he had no qualms about it.

Nothing mattered, when those who loved him would find some way to move on. Morgana could manage, and after this was over, Uncle Katsuya could finally come from Sumaru to look for him. Arsene could finally move on from Robin, and Yusuke—

Yusuke could forget about him, and the world would spin on.

“I don’t know…” The thug admitted. “Like this, you almost seem like a normal kid.”

Akira snorted into his teacup. It wasn’t strong enough for this.

“More news at 8.”

The thug sighed exasperatedly. “Listen, I just—” He looked over his shoulder nervously at the other thug outside, and stepped into the kitchen properly to settle down in front of Akira across the counter he was eating at, shuffling nervously as Akira raised an eyebrow at him.

“Akira Kurusu, right?” He asked, and Akira said nothing.

Iwai and Arsene had taught him not to give anything away to anyone he wouldn’t trust to keep quiet.

“I-I, uh, I’ve seen you a few times in Cafe Leblanc.”

Akira’s neutral expression fell into a glare of anger, his hand curling around the handle of the teaspoon he had on his plate.

His father Tatsuya taught him not to trust anyone who knew something you didn’t want them to.

“H-hey!” The young man hissed, holding his hands up defensively. “D-don’t get all violent on me! I-I’m here to tell you—um,” He nervously took his phone out of his pocket to look at something, and he took a deep breath. “The Reptile Tiger’s waiting for orders?”

Akira’s eyes widened. “Mune-san.”

“Y-yeah!” The thug nodded nervously, “I-I, um, I’m his part-timer, Sena Hifune. Honestly, I didn't know I was gonna be roped into doing yakuza work, but someone's gotta pay my college bills, and it sure isn't gonna be my deadbeat dad.” He gave Akira a lopsided grin. “Anyway, I get to see interesting things for my novel.”

“You need to set your priorities straight.” Akira replied, but much to his relief, his annoyance from earlier started fading away.

“Eh, I'm here for a good time, not a long time.” Hifune grinned. “So, what can I do for you?”

Thank god, Akira thought. Progress.

“I need access into the study.”

“Far as I know, that place’s locked,” Hifune replied.  “Dietman Shido had the key—saw the thing on his belt. Unless you got some way to pick that lock, I’d—”

“What, is it opened with a keycard?” Akira smirked, and Hifune deflated.

“Uh, no, but—”

“I gave it a look earlier. It’s a pin tumbler.” Akira grinned. “Gimme some needles and a thread and I'll get to work.”

Hifune laughed incredulously, running his hand through short, bleached blond hair. “Yeah, Iwai-san did say you were kinda insane.” He said. “Got it. I’ll be back soon with needles and thread.”

“Thanks very much.” Akira smiled at him sweetly, and pink dusted Hifune’s cheeks. “I’ve got a dress for you to give him, too. Just tell him to take it back home for me, and to get me a decent change of clothes.”

“R-right.” Hifune nodded, and fell silent.

Akira went on to finish his breakfast, humming thoughtfully.

“So… you’re the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse.” He said after a long moment’s pause, and Akira nodded absently, getting up to make himself—and Hifune—a new batch of scrambled eggs. “I… I honestly never thought you’d be that kind of person.”

Akira stopped in front of the stove, his hands coming to a slow, and his shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, though with the way his voice wilted, it sounded more like he was saying it to himself. Hifune smiled at his back, and shook his head.

“N-no, I don’t mean it in any derogatory way, I just…” He rubbed his arm awkwardly. “It’s funny, hearing people assume what kind of person other people are like. You can never fully know someone unless you’ve formed some kind of bond with them, so…” he looked down at his hands on the table as Akira continued to cook. “Hey, um… you know a guy named Yusuke Kitagawa?”

Akira jumped, and he nearly dropped the pan he was holding. Hifune jolted, but Akira turned around to smile apologetically at him, pouring the eggs into a bowl before setting it down on the counter between them.

“Ah, Yusuke…” Akira sighed, twisting a lock of his hair between his fingers.  “ _Know_ is a very strange term to use for what we have.”

Hifune regarded him for a long moment, before he chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“He said the same thing, y’know.” He said. “The hell did I ever think I had a chance against something like that?”

Akira hesitated, and he sighed. “He doesn’t like me back.”

Hifune cocked an eyebrow at him. Akira blushed, scratching his cheek.

“You’re kidding.” He said incredulously, and Akira shook his head.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” He said softly. “A-anyway, when can you get back to Mune-san to get something I can pick the lock with?”

“Tonight, when I go home for the day. The people work in shifts, so I’ll be going home tonight to pick up the stuff you need for tomorrow.” Hifune bit his lip. “Can you hold out until then?”

“I’ll have to.” Akira sighed. “Just get me the lockpicks and the clothes ASAP. Mune-san can give you both. Oh, and can you find out if there’s anyone living underneath this floor right now?”

Hifune cocked his head. “What for?”

“It’s important.” Akira replied simply, “All the apartments are spaced the same outside right? So there should be a balcony underneath the one outside?”

“I’ll go check when I can.” Hifune nodded, “But I’m pretty sure that’s a yes. The building was symmetrical the whole way up except the penthouse.”

“We’re… not in the penthouse?” Akira said slowly, and Hifune nodded again. “Huh.”

“Smart move on Shido’s part, honestly. He’ll attract too much attention if he took the penthouse.” He replied, “We’re on the 23rd floor.”

“I see.” Akira hummed. “So, when the time comes, I’m going to need you to be the distraction while I crack open that lock.”

“A-alright.” Hifune nodded nervously. “Man, this is gonna get you into so much trouble…”

“Well, I’m like you, Hifune-san.” He gave the young man a sardonic grin, and Hifune cocked his head at him. Akira shook his head, getting up and dumping his plate and the half-full teapot into the sink.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Hifune asked, hurrying to his feet, and Akira laughed dryly.

“I’m here for a good time,” he purred, “Not a long time.”

* * *

It was odd for Hifune to miss their classes, Yusuke thought. He was the one who went on and on about never missing a single one because of the wasted tuition money, but the day was nearly over and Yusuke had to head to Ueno to be at his teacher’s exhibit again. He shook his head—it _was_ the flu season, maybe Hifune just got sick.

Well, he had other important things to deal with—when nighttime fell over the exhibit, Arsene was to come pick Yusuke up to take him to The Metaverse to meet up with Haru to investigate it further—and meet with Akira’s friends to discuss what to do with the rest of the evidence Haru had on her. That team already had some form of efficient evidence distribution, so Katsuya had told them to consolidate it with them to make backups of what they had.

“Ah, Yusuke dearest!”

Yusuke turned around to see Arsene approaching him, still dressed with golden blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. Beside him, Madarame lit up with some level of bemusement, and playfully elbowed him.

“A-ah, Ar—Albert.” He caught himself before he made any mistake, meeting Arsene with a nervous smile.

“Apologies, I couldn’t show up sooner—the board meeting took forever.” Arsene smiled with utmost charm, and Madarame grinned wider. “Ah, Mr. Madarame, good evening.”

“Good evening, Duke.” He greeted, “Will you be taking Yusuke out for dinner tonight?”

“If he’ll let me,” Arsene chuckled, taking Yusuke’s hand. “I know an absolutely wonderful place in Asakusa we can go to tonight.”

“By all means,” Madarame laughed, “Go with him, Yusuke. The both of you ought to enjoy each other’s company some more.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Yusuke bowed at him. “Let us go.”

“Of course.” Arsene bowed at Madarame again, and the two of them headed out of the museum to Arsene’s parked Audi outside its doors. “My, he’s really sucking up the disguise, isn’t he?”

“Please, don’t.” Yusuke replied flatly, and Arsene laughed as they got into the car. “Now, how am I supposed to go back into The Metaverse? Assuming Akechi has made good on his promise of erasing me there, I think he would have also terminated my registration…”

“I had a word with monsieur Iwai to have you registered under a different name.” Arsene grinned, handing him a card, and Yusuke blinked down at it.

“Goemon… Ishikawa.” He read, and the man chuckled.

“A famous bandit in Japanese history. I think it suits you quite well.” He replied. “I have booked a night in The Metaverse Hotel, and had your suit dry-cleaned and pressed this morning. It should be there in the suite right now.”

“And my mask?”

“Oh, I think you will quite like your new mask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 33 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> In the span of a few hours, Crow felt like the years he spent learning how to be a detective drain away quickly, replaced by infuriating frustration.
> 
> Crow, so far, had found out only three things about Noir that evening from furtive glances at his phone. 
> 
> One, Noir’s real name was Haru Okumura. 
> 
> Two, Miss Okumura was the sole heiress to the food conglomerate, Okumura Foods, one of the biggest companies in Japan and ranked among the top most valuable companies in the world. That would then make her one of the most valuable heiresses of her generation. 
> 
> Three, she employed a personal butler. Goemon Ishikawa—hired to be by her side at all times, even in The Metaverse, going so far as to registering him as a bona fide customer under the codename Renard. 
> 
> And that was where his knowledge ended. He couldn't pry more out of her, the young lady more interested in how the games went. Crow ended up doing more of the talking, and he found it frustrating he couldn't interrupt her.
> 
> He had a reputation to uphold, and Satanael’s words—“ _so you can be a quite dashing debonair_ ”—annoyed him. He was plenty charming enough—he didn't need some old, cradle-robbing man telling him that. 
> 
> That, and he wasn't about to let some _thief_ —even the ever-elusive _Arsene Lupin_ —one-up him like that. 
> 
> He was, after all, another red name on his list.


	33. milady de winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (an antagonist in the novel _the three musketeers_ )
> 
> She was no longer her father’s subservient puppet—this marionette danced now without strings.
> 
> And now, she was staring down the young man who killed Arsene’s lover, and he couldn’t be prouder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there was supposed to be a spinoff related to this (of the same title) but im a tired depressed man with a shiny new copy of cuphead ~~and a broken controller~~ and i didn't manage to finish it in time for the update. i'll upload it eventually (and the other spinoffs will have to wait until after the story ends, i think) though. please keep an eye out for it.
> 
> also regarding the discourse going around right now, i think i've stopped caring if people conveniently forget i love akechi because i've been dragging him for a good while now. whatever. i'll do what i goddamn please, i'm 44 chapters into this fanfic, no one's stopping me
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

There was a new woman in The Metaverse.

Crow looked up from his cards to see a young woman in a flowing, deep black and purple dress step through the front doors of the casino. A simple black mask covered her face, and her brown hair was tied up in an elegant bun, two curling tendrils framing her pretty, heart-shaped face. Her lips were painted pink, matching her pink diamond earrings, and the colour of the lace on her bodice. Underneath the lace was deep violet silk, and the rest of her dress was deep, smooth black. Her gloves were also black, going up to her elbows from her dainty hands, curled around the white-gloved hand of a tall young man in an emperor’s kabuki mask.

He frowned slightly. The young man felt… familiar.

“I fold.” He said, setting down his cards, and the rest of the table looked up at him in surprise, eyes widening at his sudden move, and he got up.

“Ah, Crow—”

“Please, do play without me. I have no plans on coming back.” He said, and strode away from the table to meet with the young woman who showed up at the doors, demanding the attention of The Metaverse with her mere arrival. Much to his surprise, behind her entered Satanael, who was offhandedly adjusting his cufflinks with a careful glance at the young woman, but when he saw Crow, he lit up and gave the brunet a plastic smile.

“Good evening.” He greeted, giving the young woman a bow as she came to a stop in front of him. Her attendant stopped a polite two paces behind her, and Crow realised he was probably a butler she toted around with her. He’d seen his fair share of people like that in The Metaverse—perhaps she was some sheltered trust fund daughter. “I must say you had quite the presence entering The Metaverse, Milady.” He offered her his hand to take. “May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

She regarded him coolly for a moment, before she jumped slightly from a prod to her back by her butler. “O-oh, that’s right.” Her voice was small and sweet, and Crow had to resist frowning in thought.

It sounded… _familiar._

“My name is Noir.” She said with some pomp in her voice, taking Crow’s hand, and he saw the way her cheeks dusted pink in alarm when he kissed it. “A-and who might you be, sir?”

“My name is Crow. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He replied, letting her hand go gently, and he looked at Satanael. “Are you perhaps acquainted with Satanael? You came in together, so I was wondering if you have a companion for the evening.”

“Ah, so you can be a quite dashing debonair!” Satanael laughed good-naturedly, approaching Crow to give him a patronising pat on his back. “Mademoiselle Noir is quite a beauty, isn't she?”

“Yes, she is rather charming.” Crow nodded, smiling at Noir, who giggled softly behind a fan.

“Thank you both.” She said. “Tonight, I am alone, yes, with my butler Renard.” She gestured at the young man behind her. “Satanael and I simply met at the registration earlier, though he has offered to accompany me for the night.”

“Ah, a shame.” Crow said. There went the chance of investigating this newcomer.

Ever since Fox came around, he'd been wary of every single newcomer to the casino. Granted, there had only been a few, but they were easy to read, or people Crow had met himself outside during the day.

This young woman was both so foreign, and yet so familiar. She had a kind, disarming presence around her, but that made Crow only all the more wary of her.

“Ah, but the more the merrier, yes?” Noir smiled sweetly. “I'd also like to make your acquaintance, Crow. My father is quite the gambler, so I do hope I have inherited some of his skill to face off a High Limit player like yourself.”

Crow’s mind went on full alert. So she already knew about the workings of The Metaverse. No doubt her father was a member here too—that narrowed down his possibilities in the list. There were only so many members that were of kin.

“Ah, I'm flattered.” Crow chuckled, pressing a hand to his heart. “It is my master who is the High Limit player, not me. In fact, I do believe he will drop by soon.”

“Samael, was it?” Noir asked, and Crow peered at her neutral smile, and kind, unassuming eyes. “Yes, I have heard about him from my father—he is the owner of this fine establishment, right?”

“Yes.” Crow nodded, “If it was anyone you should be chasing, it his him.” He gave her a bow. “I am but a replacement.”

“Nonsense, you're your own player.” Noir said pleasantly, linking her arm around Crow’s, and he could smell her sweet, subtle perfume. Expensive and elegant, much like the rest of her was. “If it was possible, may I bother you to teach me how to play effectively? Tutorials could only ever get me so far.”

Crow looked at Satanael, who laughed softly, gesturing for them to go on. “By all means. Age has won over the lady’s heart tonight.” He said with amusement. “Mayhaps I will find another lovely little thing to spend the night with.”

Crow nodded, and Noir hugged his arm a little tighter. “To the poker games—I've heard they were rather exciting, given the correct situations.”

“Of course.” Crow replied, and the two of them walked ahead, Renard at their heels.

* * *

In the span of a few hours, Crow felt like the years he spent learning how to be a detective drain away quickly, replaced by infuriating frustration.

Crow, so far, had found out only three things about Noir that evening from furtive glances at his phone.

One, Noir’s real name was Haru Okumura.

Two, Miss Okumura was the sole heiress to the food conglomerate, Okumura Foods, one of the biggest companies in Japan and ranked among the top most valuable companies in the world. That would then make her one of the most valuable heiresses of her generation.

Three, she employed a personal butler. Goemon Ishikawa—hired to be by her side at all times, even in The Metaverse, going so far as to registering him as a bona fide customer under the codename Renard.

And that was where his knowledge ended. He couldn't pry more out of her, the young lady more interested in how the games went. Crow ended up doing more of the talking, and he found it frustrating he couldn't interrupt her.

He had a reputation to uphold, and Satanael’s words— _“so you can be a quite dashing debonair”_ —annoyed him. He was plenty charming enough—he didn't need some old, cradle-robbing man telling him that.

That, and he wasn't about to let some _thief_ —even the ever-elusive _Arsene Lupin_ —one-up him like that.

He was, after all, another red name on his list.

 _He_ was the reason Akira was Crown Jewel in the first place.

“Ah, Crow?”

Crow snapped out of his daze to realise Noir was waving her hand in front of his face. “O-oh, apologies. Have I spaced out?”

“A little.” Noir said sheepishly. “You were making the most frightful scowl. Is something wrong?”

“O-oh, not at all.” Crow laughed awkwardly. “I must be a little tired from today. How embarrassing.”

“No, it’s fine.” Noir smiled at him sweetly. “Renard—could you get this gentleman a glass of water?” She asked her butler, and the young man bowed and walked away.

“I do apologise,” Crow said, patting her hand apologetically. “I truly had not meant to space out—you are definitely engaging company, I truly mean that.”

“Thank you.” Noir nodded, and she lit up at the sight of something behind him. “Ah, Renard! Thank you for the water.”

Crow took the glass from the butler, nodding his thanks before delicately it down halfway. God, what was wrong with him tonight?

(He knew what—every second Akira was stuck in Shido’s apartment meant Akira was closer and closer to getting killed, knowing his rebellious streak. Akechi had to _do something,_ or he would lose Akira completely. He just _couldn’t_ lose him. He would rather _die_ than lose him.)

Noir jumped beside him. “Oh, look—a dealer is looking for you.”

A dealer, she said. So _that_ was it—they'd been in The Metaverse for quite a while now, she should already have known the difference in the staff uniforms had she been more observant.

He’d been suspicious over nothing—Miss Okumura was simply a greedy, sheltered airhead of an heiress.

Crow turned to see Lune approaching him, and he shook his head, chuckling fondly. “No, just a member of the administerial staff.” He said, and turned to address Lune as he arrived. “What is the matter, Lune?”

“Sorry for interrupting,” He bowed at him and Noir, “Samael-san has arrived.”

“Oh.” Crow deflated. “I see. I shall go meet him.”

Lune nodded, and Noir lit up.

“Oh, may I join you?” She asked, and Crow nodded.

“Please, after me.” Lune said cheerfully, and the two followed after him.

Crow, with all his nerves about seeing Samael that night, failed to notice Noir rubbing her wrist tenderly, a small frown on her lips.

* * *

Being in The Metaverse was honestly the most exciting thing in Haru’s life so far. Earlier that evening, she and Ohya, along with her bodyguards Kanako and Sumire, checked into The Metaverse Hotel early to get her ready for the evening. Sumire and Kanako were quick and efficient with helping Haru into her classic French-style dress, and Ohya excitedly rattled on while she helped Haru put makeup on.

It was all like a thriller, really—a young lady, the heroine of justice, going undercover in the heart of the villain’s operations to seek the truth, to surreptitiously meet with hidden allies in the shadows.

Her entrance into The Metaverse was unexpectedly grand and underwhelming at the same time—heads turned at her entry, eyes drawn to her vibrant violets and pink in the sea of black, but Crow’s approach and interest in her immediately quelled any attempt the rest of crowd would have made. Haru wasn’t sure if she should be grateful for that, though now, sporting a hand-shaped bruise around her wrist, the heroine of justice, injured, faced down the very man responsible for the despair and pain she fought to undo.

“This is Noir. I will be accompanying her tonight.” Crow said, and Haru watched Samael look her over with critical eyes.

“Good evening.” She greeted politely, bowing at him. Behind her Yusuke did the same. “Crow is a wonderful companion, sir—he’s very good at teaching me how to play effectively.”

“Well, I suppose he is at least competent enough for that.” Samael replied, voice clipped, but not quite as harsh as Haru was expecting. He still sounded exactly like the Dietman Shido she learned to tune out on TV, and that was what made her skin crawl. Still, she stood her ground, and grit out a sweet smile. She felt Crow’s muscles tighten under her hand, and she couldn’t resist patting him reassuringly.

He looked at her with side eyes, and she cocked her head at him.

“Very well. I had wanted you to play for more cash anyways.” Samael continued, “I will be doing the High Limit special tonight, so find somewhere else to play.”

“Understood.” Crow nodded, and the man strode away. He turned to look at Haru, shaking his head in exasperation. “Thank you.” He said haltingly, “He—he may be my master, but he does really get on my nerves.”

“No harm done.” Haru replied, “I can see where your resentment comes from.”

He gave her a withering smile, and nodded. “Now, to the poker tables? Let’s see you fare with how much I’ve taught you.”

Yusuke and Arsene taught her how to play, actually—though Crow’s tips were also helpful.

“Oh, if it’s alright with you Crow, I’d like to ask for a private game against you.”

Crow blinked at her in alarm, and Haru’s smile widened into a grin. “There’s something I’d like to win, and I heard that you had it.”

Crow pulled away from her, frowning nervously, his hand coming up in front of him as if to block her from him. Haru only stepped forward, as if to cage him into the wall he pulled up to hide from her, and she could watch the panic seep into what little of Crow’s expression she could see.

“The key to the penthouse suite’s door.” She said, eyes widening at the sight of Crow’s shock. “I heard that a beautiful Koh-I-Noor of a Crown Jewel used to be held in there, and—”

“ _No._ ” Crow breathed, holding up a hand at her, and Haru could feel the rush of the dominance she held over Crow’s head. “You can’t. You—”

“ _Please._ ” She pressed, taking another step forward, and she couldn’t believe how gratifying it felt to see Crow’s cool facade begin to crumble right before her.

Arsene’s voice played like an old movie in her head, frayed at the edges with warmth and scathing bitterness.

 _Corner your prey against the wall. Smell his fear. Look right into his eyes to see the panic seeping into his heart. And then_ **_break_ ** _it—break it the way he broke the hearts of others._

_Let him taste his own medicine—let him choke on his own ego._

“Noir—”

“Or else, the Tokyo PD will just have to find out their sweet little Goro Akechi plays with dangerous toys at night when the sun comes down.” She hissed lowly, “And they’ll find out through the sobs and cries of all your adoring little fans as the information spreads like a virus across the Internet.”

Crow’s eyes widened at her in horror.

“I could drag you down with me—”

“Yes, that is true.” Haru giggled. “However, my position as an heiress and lack of public image can take the blow.” She watched realisation dawn in Crow’s eyes, framed by his red mask. “Oh—but you can't, can you? The sweet, charming and righteous Detective Prince? A habitual gambler? A man who sleeps with an expensive prostitute?”

_Deal your trump card, and force him to fold._

“Poor, poor reputation.” She laughed darkly behind her fan. “You never stood a chance.”

The young man gaped at her.

“Well, Crow?” She smiled sweetly, her tone suddenly changing again as she pulled away from him to stand at a respectable distance. “Do we have a deal?”

_And checkmate._

Goro Akechi stared Haru Okumura down with shock and frustration, and he took a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Name your game and stakes.” He said, “I will do whatever you wish.”

“Thank you.” Haru said brightly. “To the dice games, please!”

* * *

“Ah, damn. Fold again.” Arsene smiled into his fist as he set his cards down on the table. Samael was unsmiling across him, though Sae was also smiling, seated in a relaxed sprawl next to him, close enough that their stiletto heels crossed each other. “I’m having the absolute worst luck tonight, aren’t I?”

“Hmph, fate decided to spit on your sportscars and nick your high heels.” Sae replied, but the venom in her voice was a poison Arsene had learned to tolerate—and perhaps even _enjoy_.

Arsene merely hummed in response, swirling his wine as he peered over at a pair of young people speaking together quietly. Haru’s face had grown quite close to Crow’s without touching his mask’s beak, and behind her he could see Yusuke watch her threaten him with a murderous look in his eyes.

Ah, the anger of youth—he’d seen that somewhere before, in the eyes of an emotionally exhausted teenaged prostitute in the dim light of a cheaper hotel room.

_“I’ll avenge him. I’ll avenge everyone Shido dared to hurt, and I’ll even let you watch the casino burn.”_

They all would have been such good, obedient children—had their futures not been taken from them. On their first meeting, Arsene had assumed Haru was a soft-spoken idealistic young lady, a rather airheaded sweetheart heiress who bit off more than she could chew, but earlier that evening told him a completely different story.

“ _Monsieur Lupin,_ ” She had said, “ _Teach me how to read people._ ”

It brought back memories, and nostalgia made Arsene say yes immediately.

The look in Haru’s eyes was the eyes of a good man gone to war, a good daughter who had had enough of being spoken over. A maiden with her future robbed from her, unhappily engaged to the worst scum of the high-class society—a little girl who had grown up to realise there was no way she would get the father she loved back.

Kunikazu Okumura’s atrocities—the under-the-table dealings, the blatant disregard for his workers’ health and lives, the greed that made him underpay and overwork innocent citizens to their gritting, breaking brittle bones—made him irredeemable in her eyes. This was not the man who took over a chain of warm, homey cafes.

This was a man, consumed by the demon of greed, destined to burn in the eyes of the public, in the embers of The Metaverse Hotel and Casino.

After he had finished teaching Haru how to break a man’s heart, she wept tears of rage, fists shaking on his shoulders as her voice spilled her resentment of The Metaverse, of her father, of Okumura Foods, and he simply let her pour it all out. The Molotov inside her was ripe and potent, and Arsene could never ignore a lovely young lady in tears. He kissed them away from her sweet, young-pink cheeks like the sun did to morning dewdrops, and mused about how much she had grown in the short time he knew her.

She was no longer her father’s subservient puppet—this marionette danced now without strings.

And now, she was staring down the young man who killed Arsene’s lover, and he couldn’t be prouder.

“Two diamonds in the rough, now polished to an almost sinful brilliance.” He murmured fondly, shaking his head when Sae cocked her head at him. “Apologies, I was merely lamenting on the miracle of nature.”

“The miracle of nature.” The woman replied, as around them, the house betting pools commenced, Futaba’s furtive glances at him the least of his worries as he watched Goro Akechi acquiesce to the new Empress of Okumura Foods.

“Yes.” Arsene chuckled, watching the three—Haru, Akechi, and Yusuke—head to the dice tables. “The formation of diamonds is a marvellous, miraculous thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 34 preview**
> 
>  
> 
> “Ah, Renard, it’s fine.” Haru giggled, patting the young man’s shoulder. “I can win this myself.”
> 
> “We haven’t taught you how to play this game yet.” He said, and from the look on Akechi’s face, it was the first time he had heard that young man’s voice, at least for the night. 
> 
> Makoto had heard it before, too, and her eyes widened, her hand balling into a fist that shook with rage.
> 
> Yusuke Kitagawa. 
> 
> The night he broke Akira’s heart, Mishima had gone looking for his name in the Metaverse registry, and as they expected, he was gone. His account had been terminated, and no Fox had logged in that night, or any of the ones after that. At the time, Makoto had finally accepted that this Yusuke really had just used Akira as a means to scratch an itch, a conclusion the rest of their little ragtag group had already jumped to. She had been a little more reluctant than the others, but thanks to that one piece of evidence, she had been sold on the idea.
> 
> And now, here he was again, under a different mask, like somehow they wouldn’t notice?
> 
> Ann seemed to have noticed too—her own hand shaking in rage in Makoto’s hand. Makoto patted her reassuringly, but she shook her head and stormed off, much to her surprise. Ann usually could rope herself in, but Makoto couldn’t blame her. They were all on edge, too worried about Akira and his current state—broken-hearted, stuck in Shido’s apartment, where the entirety of their operations hinged on the slightest chance that he would find her father’s will there.


	34. chéri, choisis-moi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (darling, choose me)
> 
> She didn’t trust Akechi, but she didn’t trust Yusuke either. 
> 
> Haru—she had yet to betray her trust, and Makoto was willing to gamble on her integrity.
> 
> She picked up three dice—deep violet, weighted, and hardly used. She hated cheating—she hated anything to do with dishonesty, but now wasn’t the time to pretend they could all walk away from this with clean consciences, and clean hands.
> 
> “Welcome to tonight’s game, Miss Noir, Mr. Crow. This is a private game of dice as requested by Miss Noir, for the prize of Joker’s suite room key. For Miss Noir’s sake, I will review the rules again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i love makoharu.............. the concept is Soft...... the haru spinoff will detail how they fell for each other........... eventually.........
> 
> in other news: i've hit the last formal chapter of the casino au! next week, the upload schedule will now change from Tuesday and Friday evenings (Philippine Standard Time) to **Monday, Wednesday and Friday**! Thank you so, so much for all the support I've been getting from this AU. I couldn't have done it without the love and new mutuals I got from twitter. Thank you everyone so, so much. This was a fandom first for me, so I'm so very glad I've finally managed it.
> 
> Stay tuned for more announcements—we've got a long way to go.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes!

“ _There's a new woman in The Metaverse._ ”

Makoto peered at Futaba, the orange of her hair the only thing visually catching at how far they were from each other, and she raised an eyebrow. Putting down the dice she had been packing away, she watched Futaba discreetly point behind her, and Makoto followed it to see Akechi speaking with the young woman who had been the talk of the night thus far.

“Gorgeous dress.” She murmured, and over their communications line, she heard Ann giggling. She couldn't help but smile fondly at her reaction.

“ _I know, right?_ ” Ann said, from wherever she was right now. “ _Anyone know her codename? And if she swings my way?_ ”

“ _Gotcha covered._ ” Mishima, presumably from his usual perch near the reservation. “ _Noir. Prefers women._ ”

“ _Score._ ” Futaba snickered.

“ _Yo, what's going on here?_ ” Ryuji finally spoke after a long time of radio silence, and Makoto chuckled.

“Panther is gossiping with Lune about Miss Noir.” She replied, and Ann’s scandalised gasp made her giggle.

“ _Rude. Just getting scoop on who's in here, is all._ ” Ann came around the corner, pouting at Makoto, and the dealer gave her a small wave. “ _Uh-uh. That cutesy stuff isn't gonna help you this time, Queen._ ”

“ _I-I wasn't gossiping!_ ” Mishima protested. “ _S-she asked, so I answered!_ ”

“ _Yeah, yeah, quit it._ ” Ryuji drawled. “ _So we're talkin’ about Noir, huh? Tell you what—did any of you hear what she and Crow were talking about?_ ”

Futaba was leering, Makoto thought. Well, she couldn't see Futaba’s face, but she knew the young woman would be. Unfortunately she was handling the High Limit special that night, so she couldn't speak much.

“Enlighten us.” Makoto said for her, and she could see Futaba give her a thankful wave.

“ _Oh? Hold on—they're heading towards you, Queen!_ ” Ann said, “ _I'm heading over. This sounds interesting._ ”

“ _Are you all just that bored while we wait for Lupin-san to make a move?_ ” Mishima sighed, and Makoto heard him suddenly whimper. “ _Ow, Skull. The heck?_ ”

“ _Don't._ ” Ryuji sighed. “ _I know we're all dead scared for Joker, but we gotta trust him. He'll find a way, and if this Lupin won't pull through, I'm gonna personally beat his ass._ ”

“ _Good luck._ ” Futaba snorted, and Makoto wasn't sure if she meant that at Ryuji, or the game she was dealing for.

Probably both.

Ann approached her with a friendly smile and wave, draping herself over her side as they watched Noir and Akechi approach them. Makoto couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Akechi’s defeated expression, but she put on a friendly smile for them as they approached.

“Good evening.” She said kindly, and Noir beamed at her.

“Good evening,” she took a careful look around, and nodded. “Mako-chan?” She asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

Makoto jolted, her eyes widening in shock.

“Mako-chan?” Ann echoed, and Makoto shook her head, pointedly not meeting Akechi’s eye when he gaped at her.

She couldn't believe it.

Haru Okumura. They'd been classmates since high school, and they were classmates even now in minor subjects at college. Haru was such a sweet girl, and Makoto had never thought she would end up in a place like The Metaverse—

But the young woman in front of her—the same eyes, the smile, the voice—this was unmistakably Haru.

She almost deflated in disappointment—no, there had to be some reason as to why she was here. Makoto couldn't accept the idea of Haru being like any of the customers they had there in The Metaverse. This wasn’t the girl she grew up with—

The girl she couldn’t ever take her eyes off of.

“ _Huh? They with Queen and Panther right now?_ ” Ryuji asked, and Makoto spotted Futaba look their way while the house placed its bets on the night's High Limit special.

“ _Yep._ ” She said.

“ _Ah, found her!_ ” Mishima chirped. “ _Haru Okumura. Registered just today by Iwai-san._ ”

Iwai. He was Akira’s contact person for security and registration. Things were looking good so far.

Makoto ignored Haru’s pet name for her. “Would you like to have a few rounds?” She asked, rattling her dice box.

“Ah, yes please.” Haru was smiling knowingly as Akechi helped her sit down. “A private game between me and Mr. Crow.”

Makoto looked at Akechi, who lowered his head. “Understood. The prize?” She asked, “We have three levels, the first—”

“A custom game, please.” Haru said politely, and Makoto blinked at her. “Mr. Crow and I are gambling for a special prize.”

“Special… prize?” Makoto echoed, and with a sigh, Akechi pulled out a key from the inside pocket of his coat.

“The key to Joker’s suite.” He said, and set it down on the table. Haru beamed at Makoto, and much to her surprise, a third person sat down next to her. Makoto’s head reeled—she hadn’t even noticed him following behind Akechi and Haru, a polite two paces behind them. She looked at him with confusion, and it didn’t sit very well with her that the man’s emperor kabuki mask shielded his expression from her completely. Makoto's eyes narrowed at the suit the young man was wearing—it felt… _familiar._

She felt like she had seen it before, somewhere, not too long ago.

“Ah, Renard, it’s fine.” Haru giggled, patting the young man’s shoulder. “I can win this myself.”

“We haven’t taught you how to play this game yet.” He said, and from the look on Akechi’s face, it was the first time he had heard that young man’s voice, at least for the night.

Makoto had heard it before, too, and her eyes widened, her hand balling into a fist that shook with rage.

Yusuke Kitagawa.

The night he broke Akira’s heart, Mishima had gone looking for his name in the Metaverse registry, and as they expected, he was gone. His account had been terminated, and no Fox had logged in that night, or any of the ones after that. At the time, Makoto had finally accepted that this Yusuke really had just used Akira as a means to scratch an itch, a conclusion the rest of their little ragtag group had already jumped to. She had been a little more reluctant than the others, but thanks to that one piece of evidence, she had been sold on the idea.

And now, here he was again, under a different mask, like somehow they wouldn’t notice?

Ann seemed to have noticed too—her own hand shaking in rage in Makoto’s hand. Makoto patted her reassuringly, but she shook her head and stormed off, much to her surprise. Ann usually could rope herself in, but Makoto couldn’t blame her. They were all on edge, too worried about Akira and his current state—broken-hearted, stuck in Shido’s apartment, where the entirety of their operations hinged on the slightest chance that he would find her father’s will there.

“Why are you here?” She hissed, and the young man didn’t even flinch, looking up at her with cool dark eyes. Haru cocked her head at Makoto, hand to her cheek daintily, and beside her, Akechi glared at the young man.

“I have unfinished business to take care of.” Yusuke replied, and Makoto scowled.

“Like what? Are you here looking for Joker again? Well, too bad, he’s—”

“Stuck in Masayoshi Shido’s apartment, looking for the Nijima will, I know.” He cut her off, and Makoto’s heart stopped.

In her ears, Ann’s enraged voice spoke.

“ _Who the fuck is this Renard guy, Lune? Tell me!_ ” Her voice had an echo to it—she was in the employee bathroom, and Makoto knew she was probably crying in rage.

“ _U-uh, hold on._ ”

“ _Shit, you okay, Panther? Tell me where you are, right now!_ ” Ryuji sprinted across the backdrop of Makoto’s vision, presumably towards the bathrooms.

“Please, I understand your hostility, but allow me to make amends when my mistress wins against Crow.” Yusuke continued, “I can help you.”

“You.” Akechi snarled, “I told you—”

“Fan leaks.” Haru cut him off, and her smile was false, too-sweet and saccharine, and Makoto shivered.

This wasn’t the girl she fell in love with.

Akechi flinched, and much to Makoto’s shock, backed down.

“Now then.” Haru turned back to Makoto, genuine once again—or perhaps fake once again? With her head spinning in shock at this new side of Haru she never got to see, Makoto could barely keep up. “A private game between me and Mr. Crow, please.”

“And do make sure my mistress wins.” Yusuke said, bowing at Makoto respectfully. “Your incentive shall be well-deserved clarification, and cooperation.”

Makoto wasn’t sure what kind of deal she was making if she accepted this.

“ _Okay, found him—Goemon Ishikawa. Registered just today? What’s wrong with him, Panther? Queen?_ ”

“So you came back under a new name, did you.” Makoto said flatly. “Mr. Fox.”

“ _Fox, what the eff?_ ” Ryuji yelled. “ _That effin’ Yusuke guy is here? I’m gonna kick his goddamn—_ ”

“Yes.” Yusuke replied flatly. “You have Crow here to thank for that.”

Makoto peered at Akechi, who looked back at her with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Very well.”

“ _Queen, we need an explanation for this!_ ” Mishima sounded panicked, but Makoto ignored him.

Makoto picked up her dice box from the table and chose her own dice. Casino rules dictated that she would let her customers choose the dice the would use, but this battle had already begun with the scales tipped sharply in Haru’s favour.

She didn’t trust Akechi, but she didn’t trust Yusuke either.

Haru—she had yet to betray her trust, and Makoto was willing to gamble on her integrity.

She picked up three dice—deep violet, weighted, and hardly used. She hated cheating—she hated anything to do with dishonesty, but now wasn’t the time to pretend they could all walk away from this with clean consciences, and clean hands.

“Welcome to tonight’s game, Miss Noir, Mr. Crow. This is a private game of dice as requested by Miss Noir, for the prize of Joker’s suite room key. For Miss Noir’s sake, I will review the rules again.”

* * *

“Uncle Katsuya?” Morgana asked quietly, and the man looked up from his tablet, his creased brow loosening as he smiled at his nephew. He let Morgana cuddle against his side, pressing a kiss to his forehead tenderly.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, stroking the boy’s hair as he would a cat’s fur, and Morgana sighed.

“Nn… nothing.” The boy mumbled. “I’m just glad I’m with you again.”

Katsuya chuckled softly at that, and nodded. Sniffling slightly, he looked at Mona, now pitifully confined to a basket over on Morgana’s bed thanks to Katsuya’s allergies, but he wanted nothing more than to have the cat with them, too. “Have you given Mona his dinner?” He asked, and Morgana nodded. “How about our dinner? Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah.” Morgana smiled slowly. “The pasta tasted exactly how Papa used to make it.”

“I taught him that recipe, actually.” Katsuya replied. “It’s a shame Akira isn’t here to taste it too.”

“I kept leftovers!” Morgana huffed. “When Akira comes back, I’m gonna make him eat all of it! And then we’ll all talk about the old times, and we’ll hang out with Yusuke and we can live with you—”

“Slow down,” the brunet laughed softly. “Don’t forget to breathe.” He patted Morgana’s cheek, and nodded.” But yes—someday, I will take the two of you back to Sumaru. Your Aunt Maya wants to see you all again. Aunt Lisa, Uncle Eikichi—they’ve all missed you.”

Morgana’s eyes welled up with tears. “I missed them too.” He mumbled quietly. “I see Aunt Lisa on TV sometimes, but Akira says we can’t contact her. Or you, or anyone else.”

Katsuya frowned. “Why?”

“I-I’m not sure, honestly…” Morgana shook his head. “We had to change our surnames to Kurusu, because Shido would do something bad… I think.”

The brunet sighed. “Akira has the answers, huh.” He shook his head. “If only I’d showed up sooner…”

Morgana squeezed his hand. “You didn’t know.” he said quietly. “ _We_ didn’t know.”

The man huffed softly, smiling.

Downstairs, the phone suddenly rang, and the both of them jumped.

“Oh, I should answer that.” Morgana said, getting up, but Katsuya shook his head.

“I’ll do it,” he volunteered, heading downstairs faster than Morgana could, and the boy decided to pick his cat up first before heading after his uncle. He saw Katsuya pick up the phone, and the man’s eyes widened.

Morgana cocked his head, and in his arms Mona meowed.

“Uncle Katsuya?”

* * *

“Shido’s out for the night, huh.” Hifune said, peering at his partner, who had his head lolling over the backrest of the couch, mouth hanging open as he loudly snored, snorting softly in his sleep. “Too bad we found the sleeping pills too late for lunch.”

“No, we had to condition him to eat what we gave him first.” Akira shook his head, fiddling with Hifune’s phone as he leaned against the wall. “What time you heading back home soon?”

Hifune glanced at the gilded wall clock. “About an hour. Maybe less. Just barely enough time for a call.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s plenty enough time.” Akira gave him a soft smile. “It's too bad I can't call Arsene right now, he should be in The Metaverse right around now. My team, too.”

“Maybe someone else?” Hifune ventured.

“Yeah, I've got someone in mind.” Akira chuckled, and dialled a familiar number, long-memorised. “I'll pay your phone bill after this, promise.”

“Heh, thanks.” Hifune laughed, and settled down on the couch next to the sleeping thug. “You should go out into the balcony for some privacy.”

“In  _t_ _his_ outfit?” Akira laughed, pointing at himself. “I’d freeze out there. We’re pretty high up, and going out in this will make me look like some streaker.”

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna see you up here.” Hifune chuckled, and the prostitute rolled his eyes.

“You seem awfully fine with condoning this.” Akira grinned, putting a hand to his hip, and the young man laughed.

“‘Kay, fine. Here.” He pulled off his coat and handed it to Akira. “Go on. I'll keep an eye on this guy.”

Akira’s smile was radiant as he pulled the coat on. It was just a little larger than he was, and the sleeves went past his fingers. “Thanks, Hifune-san. I'm glad Mune-san has a guy like you.”

“Heh, don't… mention it.” The blond blushed, covering his face. “J-just go on.”

Akira nodded, and made his way to the balcony just as the phone stopped ringing for someone to answer it.

“Oh, hey, Sojiro-san. It's me.”

“ _… Akira?_ ”

Akira’s eyes widened. This voice wasn’t Sojiro’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 35 preview!**
> 
>  
> 
> Yusuke, Arsene, Makoto and Haru strode out of the elevator to see Iwai standing outside Joker’s door, frowning severely at them, holding up his phone. 
> 
> “Ah, monsieur Iwai.” Arsene smiled pleasantly. “I see you have received my message.”
> 
> “Yeah, I did.” The man gruffly replied, “Though the kids all already knew to meet up here.”
> 
> “Oh, that’s thanks to me.” Futaba said, putting her hand up. “I called everyone up here after Inari and gang decided to clear things for us.”
> 
> “It's Renard.” Yusuke corrected her with some haughtiness, and the girl leered at him. 
> 
> “Inari.” She insisted. “C’mon, Iwai-san, let us in. I want this entire messy thing sorted out, and I’ve got someone’s face I want to run my fist through, and Inari’s name is on it.”
> 
> Iwai gave Yusuke a pointed look, and Yusuke lowered his head.
> 
> “Apologies. I will clear everything soon.”
> 
> Iwai rolled his eyes, and opened the door. Haru gave Yusuke a supportive smile as she took her mask off, and in front of them, and Futaba removed hers as well. Arsene, still wearing his mask, strode in first, followed by Futaba and Iwai, leaving Makoto, Haru and Yusuke outside. 
> 
> “They’re gonna beat the stuffing out of you.” Makoto said pointedly, taking her mask off, and Yusuke sighed exasperatedly.
> 
> “I do suppose I owe them that much.” He replied, “As an apology for taking far too long to catch up with everyone else in The Metaverse.”
> 
> Makoto gave him a fond smile at that, and Haru gently tugged on her arm. “Shall we?” She asked, and the brunette nodded. 
> 
> “Good luck in there, Mr. Fox.”


	35. la réunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the reunion)
> 
> If this was some cruel fever dream, he didn’t want to wake up from it. Not yet.
> 
> “Uncle Katsuya.” He breathed, “Oh, my god. You—you’re there. I-I,” he choked back a sob, “I’m talking to you.”
> 
> “ _Yes, Akira, it’s me._ ” The relief in the man’s voice made Akira’s heart feel brittle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen it's a huge fucking irony for me to be preaching about hope and all that bullshit and have absolutely none at all lmao god im such a goddamn hypocrite
> 
> anyway i really hate this fic now haha nice☆ for everyone still here, thanks, but also please find somethign more worthwhile out there. you won't regret it.
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

The dice landed on a nine—three, four, two. Haru frowned slightly, her lips curling down into a pout as she considered them for a long moment, as if staring at them would give her the result she preferred.

Makoto looked at Akechi, who looked back at her pleadingly, and she sighed.

Knocking the table twice wasn’t very obvious, but the flip of the die showing three to four was very much so. Akechi deflated, and Haru lit up.

“Oh! This is so very exciting.” She said brightly, turning to Yusuke with a wide smile on her face. “I think poker would be fun too, don’t you think?”

“Indeed it is, milady.” He replied, bowing his head, and Akechi glared at him.

Makoto looked at her players over—Haru had a considerable pile of gambling chips now, and Akechi’s pile was running out.

So far, Akechi had not won a single round, either by sheer luck, or Makoto’s work. The dice were hollow such that a weight in the middle could fit, supported only barely weakly. Any soft disturbance could push the weight in any direction, moving the dice anywhere the dealer went.

And right now, Makoto wanted Haru to win. Their eyes met, and Haru’s smile widened at her.

“The next round, please?” She asked sweetly, and Makoto nodded.

“Please place your bets.” She said, collecting the dice and dropping them into her shaker.

Haru pushed forward a modest tower of chips, and Akechi pushed the same tower forward. Again, like before, Haru betted on an even total, and Akechi went for odd. Makoto peered at the two of them nervously, and much to her surprise, Haru sighed softly.

“Oh, but isn’t it rather boring to win _all_ the time?” She wondered out loud, and Akechi gaped at her. “I can’t imagine it being any level of exciting for either you, Crow, or you, Queen.”

“Or me.”

They all jumped to see Satanael standing behind the girl, grinning fondly. Beside him, Futaba stood, frowning deeply. She had her arms crossed, and she was glaring right at Yusuke.

“Oh, monsieur Satanael!” Haru said, and Yusuke got up to let Arsene sit where he sat. The Frenchman chuckled fondly at that, giving Yusuke’s shoulder a friendly pat before settling down, crossing a leg over the other.

“Good evening, all of you.” Arsene grinned, “What’s going on here?”

“This is extortion.” Akechi said flatly, and they all turned to look at him. “What on earth are you trying to achieve here? Why this game? Why drag this on for so much?” He glared at all of them, at Yusuke, especially. “You all should know by now that Joker isn’t here. You gain _nothing_ from going in there.”

“Silence, boy.” Arsene’s voice was suddenly cold, whip-sharp and cruel, and Makoto felt her blood go cold.

She had heard his voice over the phone, crackling with static, but warm and friendly. Affectionate, even—but this man before her was completely different. At least, right at that singular moment.

Akechi glared back at him. “You have no right to speak to me like that.”

“I do.” The thief shot back, “After all, _Loki_ , it is about time you remembered your place.” At that, Akechi’s eyes widened. Yusuke and Haru blinked at Akechi in confusion, and Futaba visibly flinched. “I have had _quite enough_ of your infernal meddling.”

Akechi remained defiant, quickly recovering. “What do _you_ know? You’ve meddled yourself, haven’t you? You’re the reason Joker is Crown Jewel.”

“I am not.” Arsene’s smirk was sharp, too many teeth and not genuine enough. “ _You_ are.”

At that, the brunet stopped. “No.” He breathed, and Arsene laughed derisively.

“Milady Noir, tell the fool why you bothered with this game.” He said, waving Yusuke over. “Renard, may I bother you to procure me a glass of red wine?”

“As you wish.” Yusuke bowed his head, and Arsene took his hand to kiss it.

“Lovely boy.” He replied, patting his hand, and Yusuke strode away. Makoto watched him leave with awe, but she looked back at Haru, who was still smiling sweetly.

“Well, if monsieur Satanael insists.” She giggled, turning to Akechi. “I wanted to humiliate you.”

He gaped at her. “What?”

Her eyes opened wide, and she stared him down, still wearing a saccharine smile that matched Arsene’s devilish smirk.

“You are nothing but a cheat.” She said, “The first night young Fox entered The Metaverse, you forced Joker to play the prize of a game you tried rigging to win yourself. You pulled him into a game you set up for him to fail, but thanks to Joker, he made _you_ fall instead.”

Yusuke came back with a tray perched perfectly on his fingers, and lowered it to Arsene’s side to let him take the glass of red wine. He offered Haru one of the flutes of champagne next to it, but she politely shook her head. He walked over to Akechi’s side, and lowered a champagne flute to his side, perched delicately between gloved fingers.

“Then, on his second night, you rigged the High Limit special to let him win, fooling him into trusting you, and then you drugged him to have sex with Joker.” She continued, and Yusuke insistently handed him the flute of champagne. “Please, do take it.” Haru nodded, and warily Akechi took the flute, but refused to drink it.

“Oh, worry not about the drink.” Yusuke said into his ear, and his eyes widened when his hand curled around Akechi’s hand holding the flute, squeezing sensually. “I’m not like you.”

He set the tray he was holding down before slightly lifting his mask to drink some of the champagne. “Safe.” He sighed, pulling it away from his lips with an obscene pop, and Akechi stared down the golden drink bubbling innocently at the bottom of the clear crystal. “Have a drink, sir.”

Akechi didn’t hesitate, and let Yusuke press the glass to his lips, right on top of where he drank from.

Champagne flowed down his throat, the familiar burn of alcohol and carbonation an odd tingle in his spine and gut, and he exhaled deeply.

“Safe.” He echoed.

“Not like Akira right now,” Yusuke whispered to him. “And _you_ did this.”

“You don’t deserve him.” Akechi shot back.

“Ah, it’s things like that that make me not regret doing this to you.” Haru giggled, and Akechi looked at her to see her pick up the other flute of champagne. “Oh, this is my first taste of champagne.” she turned to Arsene, and the man laughed softly.

“By all means, give it a try.” He said, and she nodded.

“To Joker.” She raised her flute, and Akechi withered.

“To Joker.” He replied.

Haru took a sip, and frowned. “Hm. I don’t think it’s my thing.” She said, shaking her head. She handed the flute to a grinning Arsene, and turned her attention back to Akechi. “So, Crow.” She smiled. “That was all this was—an exercise in humiliating you, in front of your staff,” she gestured at Makoto, who could only watch on in stunned silence, but at the mention of her name, Makoto jumped in surprise. “Your fellow High Limit players,” She gestured at Arsene and Yusuke, the latter already striding away from Akechi’s side, “And your casino’s guests.”

Akechi jumped at that, and he turned to see that a crowd had gathered, Futaba in front of them.

In his focus on Haru, Yusuke and Arsene, he hadn’t even noticed her disappear.

“Admit your defeat.” Haru smiled brightly. “And we will go on our way.”

Akechi opened his mouth to speak, only to have Yusuke interrupt him.

“You don’t know how to save him from that apartment, don’t you?” He murmured, and Akechi jolted, glaring at him. “You’re at your wit’s end. You have no idea how to get him out of there.”

“You—”

“Admit. Defeat.” Arsene pressed, “Or it will not be just your defeat in this game I will make you confess.”

Akechi glowered at him, fists shaking, but he stopped himself, sighing deeply.

He shook his head glumly, and peered at the shocked onlookers.

“I concede.”

Makoto couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Akira’s team never managed to bring Akechi to his knees like this. Just who _were_ these people?

And Yusuke had been _drugged?_

“Oh, god.” She breathed, “Morgana was right.”

Futaba came up to her side and elbowed her awkwardly. “Team, we’re gonna need you all to go up to Joker’s suite, stat.” She muttered, and Makoto was grateful she was there. She couldn’t find the words in her to speak.

“Well, as the amateurs say,” Arsene smiled toothily, taking the suite key off the table where Makoto had left it resting in the middle, “ _Yoink._ ”

He got up, and Yusuke helped Haru onto her feet. She turned to look at Makoto, and gave her a genuine smile.

“Mako-chan,” she said quietly, “Come with us—and please, have the rest of Joker’s friends see us there in the suite as well. We have a lot to talk about.”

Makoto gaped at her outstretched hand, and Haru huffed fondly. The brunette hesitated for a moment, and finally nodded, taking her hand delicately. Without her even telling him, Yusuke stood aside, letting Makoto take Haru’s hand, wrapping an arm around her waist, and Makoto was glad for the mask over her face.

She was currently sporting the brightest red blush under it, after all.

“We’ll explain everything when we’re upstairs,” Haru said apologetically, patting Makoto’s hand on her waist with her free hand. “I’m sorry for the mess.”

“Not a problem at all.” Makoto replied, and meant more than the revelations Haru revealed that night.

“After me, please.” Arsene smiled, tapping the key against his lips, as Futaba joined him by his side, looking warily at Akechi, who had sat back down on his seat, albeit slowly. Makoto spotted Yusuke giving Akechi one last glance, as Arsene turned around, confidently leading their little group. “To Joker’s suite.”

* * *

Akira couldn’t believe it.

He stumbled against the bannister of the balcony, his hand shaking, knuckles white with a hard grip on the cold metal as the wind around him howled. All the noise in the world could be deafening him right now, and the voice on the other side of the line would still be the clearest thing he heard in years.

“ _Akira? I-it’s you, isn’t it? You’re safe—oh, thank God, you’re safe._ ”

His eyes welled with tears as he sank to the floor, uncaring if he got himself dirty with the grit that lightly dusted the balcony flooring. His voice shook, as he held Hifune’s phone with both his hands out of fear that if he let go, this dream would end, and Akira would wake up in bed again, sore and broken after a night with Shido.

If this was some cruel fever dream, he didn’t want to wake up from it. Not yet.

“Uncle Katsuya.” He breathed, “Oh, my god. You—you’re there. I-I,” he choked back a sob, “I’m _talking to you._ ”

“ _Yes, it’s me._ ” The relief in the man’s voice made Akira’s heart feel brittle. “ _I’ve missed you, oh god. I’m so sorry I took so long to find you both, I’m sorry it’s been years—_ ”

“N-no, it’s my fault,” Akira sniffled, and he realised tears had started rolling down his cheeks without him noticing them. He gingerly wiped at his eyes with the hem of Hifune’s coat, taking a shuddering breath as he tried to calm himself down. “I-it was my fault. I-I had to hide from you.”

“ _Akira, I have been looking for you and your brother for years now. I hadn’t given up on you, so don’t you do the same._ ”

Akira’s eyes widened. “I-I…” he covered his mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“ _Where are you right now? I'll come get you._ ”

“N-no, don't.” Akira choked out. “U-Uncle Katsuya, please, don't come looking for me. I-I…”

“ _I'm not letting Shido take away another family member. He took Tatsuya. I won't let him take you._ ”

Akira’s heart broke and became whole in a single, painful breath. “I’m so, so sorry.” He said weakly. “I-I had to change our surnames so you wouldn’t be able to find us—Shido, he said he’d wipe our family from existence if you tried looking for us. I had to make it impossible for you to find us.”

There was silence on the other side of the line, and Akira wasn’t sure what that meant. Anxiety bubbled in his throat, burning like alcohol, and he pressed on.

“I—I missed you. I missed everyone. I—”

“ _I know._ ” Katsuya said softly. “ _I love you, Akira. I love you and Morgana both, and I will do everything I can to get you back._ ” He sighed, crackling static over the line, and tried again. “ _I’m sorry—Mr. Lupin and your Kitagawa boy, they—_ ”

“Yusuke?” Akira’s heart stopped at the mention of Yusuke’s name, and he sat up ramrod straight. “Yusuke? He’s… with Arsene? Wh-what?”

“ _Apologies—context, first. I was sent here by a young woman named Haru Okumura. She said you knew her?_ ”

Akira’s gut sank. “Haru.” He breathed, “No, she—oh, god. Haru, _why?_ ” He hissed, shaking his head.

“ _I will take that as confirmation. She had been investigating The Metaverse by herself and a team of investigative journalists, and through their efforts, found me as a person of interest with regards to the investigation of The Orpheus. Mr. Kitagawa had been helping her obtain information about The Metaverse as well—apparently he’d been bugged the first night he was there? He used a camera to obtain evidence of his teacher’s gambling in the casino._ ”

Akira’s eyes widened. Yusuke _knew_ . Yusuke was _involved_ in all this. “Oh, my god.” he breathed.

“ _He’d been drugged and chased away from the casino by Mr. Akechi._ ”

Cold horror settled into Akira’s blood. The heartbreak, the pain he felt from losing Yusuke—it wasn’t even his fault. Yusuke had no idea—

He _knew_ there was something odd that night.

He _refused_ to see it, refused to acknowledge any flaws in the joy he had managed to attain that night.

“Oh, Yusuke.” He breathed, clutching his chest. “I—I didn’t…”

“ _But he has returned. He’s in The Metaverse right now, with Miss Okumura and Mr. Lupin, hopefully making contact with your friends to get you back._ ” There was a smile in Katsuya’s voice as he spoke. “ _He loves you very much, Akira. I think I’m comfortable in leaving you in his capable hands._ ”

His eyes widened, and it felt like light simply flooded his chest.

Yusuke loved him.

 _God,_ Yusuke loved him back.

“N-no, what's important is just the Nijima will—”

“ _Akira._ ” Katsuya cut him off. “ _You are far more important than any scrap of paper. You're family._ ”

“No, this isn't just about me, Uncle Katsuya, my friends, Arsene—” Akira squeezed his eyes shut. “ _Yusuke._ They all need this will. They need me to find it.”

“ _Yes, but they also need you. Alive. We all love you very much. Mr. Kitagawa, especially._ ”

Akira deflated. “Uncle Katsuya…”

“ _He's coming to save you._ ” He said warmly. “ _He hasn't given up on you. So please, don't give up on yourself._ ”

“Um, Kurusu-san?”

Akira whirled around to see Hifune peering at him apologetically. “H-Hifune-san.”

“It's about time for us to go, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “My partner’s about to wake up and his phone just lit up with a text from the next shift coming up the elevator.”

“ _Akira? Who is that with you?_ ”

Akira deflated, pained. “Sorry, Uncle Katsuya. I have to go.” He looked out at the city sprawled out underneath him, and smiled sadly. “Tell Arsene to expect me by the balcony underneath the apartment. I’ll be able to find the will tomorrow night.”

“ _Understood._ ” Katsuya always knew to stay calm in stressful situations. Akira smiled fondly at the thought. “ _I want you back with us by tomorrow night, am I understood?_ ”

Akira laughed softly. “Yes, sir.”

Katsuya huffed. “ _I love you, Akira. I will see you again._ ”

Somewhere, muffled behind Katsuya, he heard a small voice—Morgana. “ _I love you, Akira! You better come back to me!_ ”

He shut his eyes, feeling tears prickle the corner of them, and Hifune smiled at him fondly.

“I love you, Uncle Katsuya.” Akira replied. “I love you too, Morgana.”

He hung up, and handed Hifune his phone back. The blond gave him a smile, and Akira tried to mirror it, but only ended up bursting into tears, collapsing on Hifune’s shoulder. Pink spread across his cheeks as Akira clung to him, and he whirled around to see his partner stirring awake.

“Dude, what…?” The man mumbled, and saw the two of them standing by the balcony. His eyes widened. “What did you _do?_ ” He gaped, getting up onto his feet, and Akira looked up from Hifune’s shoulder, sniffling softly as Hifune panicked, gingerly holding Akira by his waist.

“I-I,” Hifune stammered, “I-I, uh… we’re—I didn’t—”

“Sorry,” Akira said softly, shaking his head. “I just wanted another kiss.”

“H-huh?”

Akira pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet, and Hifune flailed, panicked even after Akira had pulled away from him.

“A dear friend once said that a gentleman couldn’t resist a lovely person in tears.” Akira said, stepping away from Hifune, brushing past him to walk back inside the apartment, shucking off the blond’s coat from his body to drop it on the sofa. “Thanks for your coat, Hifune-san. Though really, what we did was enough to warm me up.”

The older thug gaped at the blond as Akira sauntered back into his room, not even looking at them. As the door clicked shut behind him, the man let out a bewildered laugh. “Damn, I must’ve been so tired I fell asleep—kid, did you _fuck?_ ”

“W-we, uh…” Hifune blinked at the door. Akira must have said that for a reason—he had to play along with it. “Yeah. Sorta.”

“ _Damn!_ ” the man guffawed, “Tomorrow, you’d better make sure I’m awake for this shit—I didn’t know we’d be getting freebies from the Crown Jewel.”

“He likes young men,” Hifune blurted out, and the man gave him a lascivious wink.

“He’s a whore. He’s not gonna care about the difference.” He said, jerking his head at the door. “C’mon, it’s almost time for us to get going, kid.”

“R-right.” Hifune nodded, and followed after him, but not without glancing at Akira’s door worriedly.

* * *

Finally alone in his room, Akira leaned on the door, taking a deep, shaky breath, and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.

He’d missed them, _god_ he’d missed them so terribly—Morgana, Katsuya—

_Yusuke._

Katsuya said he was coming to save him. He’d been so ready to die—he’d been so ready to just give up on himself, waste all his chances getting Hifune and the will out of the apartment and to his friends.

But Yusuke _loved_ him. Yusuke _knew_ about all this—was _fighting_ to set them all free, like he was.

_Yusuke wanted to save him._

Hamuko Nijima and Wakaba Isshiki’s final play— _Anastasis_ —told the story of Eurydice’s adventure through the Underworld to meet her husband Orpheus. She did not wait for him, nor did she make him wait—she met him halfway, and their reunion touched the hearts of the gods that governed their world above them.

Tatsuya’s words echoed in his head.

_“Find someone who would meet you halfway.”_

Akira smiled through the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

Yusuke.

Yusuke was his Orpheus, and he, Eurydice, would never have to go through the rest of the Underworld alone.

There was hope, he thought, sinking to the floor.

There would _always_ be hope.

* * *

Yusuke, Arsene, Makoto and Haru strode out of the elevator to see Iwai standing outside Joker’s door, frowning severely at them, holding up his phone.

“Ah, monsieur Iwai.” Arsene smiled pleasantly. “I see you have received my message.”

“Yeah, I did.” The man gruffly replied, “Though the kids all already knew to meet up here.”

“Oh, that’s thanks to me.” Futaba said, putting her hand up. “I called everyone up here after Inari and gang decided to clear things for us.”

“It's Renard.” Yusuke corrected her with some haughtiness, and the girl leered at him.

“Inari.” She insisted. “C’mon, Iwai-san, let us in. I want this entire messy thing sorted out, and I’ve got someone’s face I want to run my fist through, and Inari’s name is on it.”

Iwai gave Yusuke a pointed look, and Yusuke lowered his head.

“Apologies. I will clear everything soon.”

Iwai rolled his eyes, and opened the door. Haru gave Yusuke a supportive smile as she took her mask off, and in front of them, and Futaba removed hers as well. Arsene, still wearing his mask, strode in first, followed by Futaba and Iwai, leaving Makoto, Haru and Yusuke outside.

“They’re gonna beat the stuffing out of you.” Makoto said pointedly, taking her mask off, and Yusuke sighed exasperatedly.

“I do suppose I owe them that much.” He replied, “As an apology for taking far too long to catch up with everyone else in The Metaverse.”

Makoto gave him a fond smile at that, and Haru gently tugged on her arm. “Shall we?” She asked, and the brunette nodded.

“Good luck in there, Mr. Fox.” Makoto nodded at Yusuke, and the young man smiled wryly at her as he took his mask off.

“Worry not—I’ve had my fair share of beginner’s luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _oooh, yusuke said the thing._ /sarcasm
> 
> **Chapter 36 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> “What about you?” He jerked his head at Yusuke, and the young man hesitated. 
> 
> “I will go with Arsene to meet Akira halfway.” He said after a moment of silence, and the room blinked at him. He looked down at his hands, and sighed. “All this time, I had been so blind to the truth, that I had left Akira to work on securing our freedom all alone.” He balled his hands into fists. “And it pains me to know he has suffered greatly for this game to end—I will not let him suffer through it alone for any moment longer.”
> 
> Ann’s eyes were glittering with awe and admiration. Ryuji gave him a lopsided grin, and Futaba hid her grin behind her hand. Mishima looked up at Iwai with a smile, and the man lowered his hat fondly. Haru sighed happily, clutching her hand over her heart, and Sae patted Makoto’s hand. 
> 
> “Thank you, Yusuke-san.” Makoto said, taking a step forward to offer her hand for him to shake. “We leave our leader in your capable hands.”
> 
> Yusuke smiled back at her, and took her hand to shake it. 
> 
> “Welcome to the Phantom Thieves,” Makoto said proudly. “We steal the corrupted desires of wretches and fiends, and expose them to the world.”
> 
> “Tomorrow night is my first, and your last heist.” Yusuke nodded. “I shall do whatever it takes to make it worthwhile.”


	36. les voleurs fantômes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the phantom thieves)
> 
> The first thing Yusuke expected when he entered the room was a collection of very suspicious, very _angry_ stares.
> 
> He never saw the fist coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi double update tonight

The first thing Yusuke expected when he entered the room was a collection of very suspicious, very _angry_ stares.

He never saw the fist coming.

One minute he was standing up straight as he strode into the familiar suite, passing by the _Incarceration_ to head into the room proper where Akira’s bed had been—only to get punched in the face, _hard._ He recoiled, wincing as his hand shot up to hold his face, tongue swirling in his mouth to make sure his teeth were all still there.

It seemed lady luck was on his side, after all.

He straightened up again, the throb of pain in his cheek a stark, constant reminder of his place in Akira’s tight-knit group, and he found himself looking back at a furious-looking bleached blond, almost cross-eyed in anger. Ryuji Sakamoto—Skull, one of Akira’s closest friends.

“I do think I deserved that.” Yusuke winced, and Ryuji’s eyes flashed red.

“You deserve more than that, asshole.”

“Ryuji.” Makoto snapped, and the blond whirled around to look at her. “Calm down. We can’t have a brawl right before we get things sorted out.”

“Why not?” Ann shot back, seated on Akira’s bed, her eyes red and her cheeks ruddy, and Yusuke couldn’t help pity her. She was beautiful—a lovely model for a beautiful art piece, definitely, and her tears only tugged on his heartstrings. “He hurt Akira—he hurt _us_. Can’t we dish out some pain for this asshole?”

“Just calm down for a sec.” Makoto sounded exasperated, but Yusuke could see the silent apprehension the team had on him just by their stares.

Mishima was practically hiding behind Iwai, trying his best to glower at Yusuke, while on the floor next to an armchair, Futaba was outright _glaring_ at him. Still, her large glasses and eyes made her less daunting, but the woman sitting on the armchair was. Sae Nijima stared him down like she would in a courtroom, and Yusuke felt the need to apologise, and confess to crimes he hadn’t committed. Makoto helped Haru sit down on another armchair before standing next to her, and Yusuke didn’t miss the way Sae’s eyes softened at the sight of the two women together. Arsene stood by the bathroom door, leaning against the wall with a thoughtful frown on his lips.

Ryuji, growling, stomped back to Ann’s side, and sat down next to her, petulantly holding her hand. Realisation clicked in Yusuke’s head—they were together, it seemed.

“Talk.” Sae said.

Yusuke took a deep breath. “First and foremost, I wish to apologise for all the pain I had inadvertently brought.” He bowed deeply, and when he straightened up, none of them looked any less angry than before.

Understandable.

“I will introduce myself again—my name is Yusuke Kitagawa. I am a second year university student taking Fine Arts, under the benefit of an art scholarship.”

“ _We know._ ” Futaba snapped, and Yusuke, thankfully, did not jump. “What, you didn’t think we’d dig up dirt on you after what you did to Akira?”

He did, however, flinch. He pressed on.

“The first time I entered The Metaverse Casino, I had been cooperating with a private investigator, hired by Miss Haru Okumura.” he gestured at Haru, who smiled at all of them as she gave them a small wave. “A small camera was planted on me, and I had entered with the intention of discovering my teacher’s activities in The Metaverse.”

“Ah, Madarame.” Sae frowned. “We were working on outing him too—Akira had wanted to bump up his priority on the list of people we were supposed to bust, because of you.”

“Right now, we’re considering throwing him to the very last number.” Ann said venomously.

Yusuke pursed his lips, and took a deep breath. “Understandable.”

Haru put her hand up. “Oh, it wasn’t just Madarame we were investigating, though—however, at the time of Yusuke-kun’s first entry, that was my investigator’s aim.”

“I see.” Makoto hummed.

“That night, I faced off Goro Akechi, and I hadn’t intended on winning Jok—er, Akira.” Yusuke stumbled over his words, his cheeks turning pink. “However, after seeing Akechi treat him so terribly, all I could think of was saving him. That was why I wanted to win his night.”

“We helped you with that.” Makoto replied, “Particularly, Akira did. He messed with the cheating system on the dice game you played at to let you win.”

Yusuke’s eyes widened. “So _that_ was what he meant…”

“Keep going,” Ryuji interrupted him, “You’re not giving me any good reason to not beat your ass in right now.”

Yusuke nodded. “Of course. That night, I did not sleep with him—I simply drew him in Morgana’s sketchbook until he fell asleep. At the time, I had not ascertained his true identity, though I had the perfect chance to.”

Ann deflated slightly. “You’re… kind of a good guy, aren’t you?”

“Thank you.” Yusuke smiled at her gently. “Truthfully, I had not known Joker and Akira were the same person until I met Haru-san, just yesterday.”

At that, the whole team gaped at him.

“No… way…” Mishima breathed. “You didn’t… know?”

“No.” Yusuke lowered his head. “Upon my return to The Metaverse, I had intended to speak with Akira about saving him from The Metaverse, but after I had won the High Limit game, I…” He sighed. “I was drugged. By Akechi.”

Ryuji’s eyes widened.

“No effin’ way.” He breathed. Mishima looked at him, panicked.

“Sakamoto, he—” He began, and Ryuji stood up.

“I thought something was funky after he gave you the drink.” He said, expression pained. “I thought it was just you being weak to alcohol or something, so I had Mishima get you a bottle of water.” He ran his hand through his hair, shocked. “I thought that was enough. I didn’t—I thought—” he shook his head, his hands balling into fists. “ _Goddamnit._ ”

“So wait—” Futaba began, “Inari got _drugged_ by _Akechi_ to fuck Akira?”

“Futaba,” Makoto sighed, long-suffering.

“That’s so _weird._ ” Futaba scrunched up her nose. “You’d think he wouldn’t want Inari anywhere _near_ him. He likes Akira, doesn’t he?”

Yusuke flinched. “Yes. I remember how very clearly he asserted that.”

They all looked at him, and he shook his head. “He took videos of our…” he made a vague gesture with his hands, blushing, before continuing. “And used it as blackmail against me, threatening to release it to the public and damaging my scholarship and reputation if I ever returned to The Metaverse.”

“And yet, here you are.” Sae said, though he could see the ghost of a smug smile on her lips. “What brings you here?”

“I want to save Akira.” Yusuke replied, “Just as much—if not _more_ —than all of you. We came here tonight to ask—or even _beg,_ for your cooperation in getting him back.”

There was a long, stretching moment of silence, and much to his relief, Ryuji suddenly smiled.

“Dude, I don’t think you have to beg.” He said, “Akira’s our friend, too. He’s practically family.”

“Wonderful.” Arsene said, and they all turned to look at him.

“By the way,” Futaba said, “Why the mask, Arsene?”

Sae bristled. “Ah. Lupin. I almost forgot you were here.”

“ _That_ is why.” Arsene grinned, “I can’t have the lovely mademoiselle Nijima see my true, handsome face, now can I?”

“Considering your brilliant record with the authorities?” Futaba deadpanned, and the man laughed fondly.

“Ah, you wound me, young Futaba.” he said, shaking his head. “Very well—now that we have your expressed allegiance, monsieur Suou had asked us to consolidate your findings with ours—no doubt when things go awry— _and they will_ —the time for us to act is nigh.”

Mishima nodded determinedly. “I-I’m constantly downloading the database whenever it gets renewed—I haven’t done that tonight, though I don’t think I have to.” He smiled at Haru, “Okumura-san and Kitagawa-san are the only new registered ones anyway.”

“Thank you.” Haru said sweetly, “I have most of the story of The Orpheus Theater with me, and I also have Lupin-san’s data on major players in The Metaverse.”

“H-hold on,” Makoto stammered, “Haru, that includes you. Y-your father, he’s—”

“I know.” Haru said softly. “But that is precisely why I must do this.” Her eyes were determined, looking at them all fiercely. “I cannot sit back and act blind while I know the truth of Okumura Foods, how it was built on broken backs and blood money.” Her hands were shaking, and Makoto tenderly held them in hers, squeezing reassuringly. “I will tear down my family’s legacy if I must—so please, do help me.”

“We will.” Futaba said, voice soft, yet supportive. “We’ve all got got to draft out a plan tonight. We’ll see it through the moment we get the greenlight from Akira.”

“I’ll be sure to know,” Iwai said, “My guy’s with him—and he’s got a phone, too. Got a text from him a little earlier telling me the kid’s asking for infiltration tools, so there’s a pretty good chance we’ll be getting the will tomorrow night.”

“Ready yourselves—prepare to evacuate the casino, if necessary.” Arsene said, “According to my private investigations this morning, Shido has apparently shipped a criminal to Tokyo in the recent days.”

Makoto’s eyes narrowed at him. “I heard about it at the station a few days ago—Tatsuya Sudou.” She nodded. “I heard a senpai in the Academy complaining about how a criminal could be transported so easily—and without the proper paperwork.” She frowned deeply. “Something’s up.”

“Sudou.” Sae frowned, “If I were to hazard a guess, something will happen to The Metaverse. Possibly a fire—that _was_ Sudou’s MO.”

“Maybe he’ll burn the casino down?” Ann ventured, and Makoto frowned, shaking her head.

“Why would he want to do that, though?” She replied, “This casino is incredibly profitable for Shido. I don’t see why he would make such a move and destroy it.”

“Maybe Sudou is here for a different reason?” Haru ventured.

“He’s here to break Akira’s heart.” Yusuke declared, and they all looked at him. “Shido wants Akira broken—hence my drugging, and his sudden isolation from family and friends.” He continued, “Through Akechi, he made me break his heart. By separating him from everyone, he broke Akira’s heart with the hopelessness of never seeing you all again. And now—”

Makoto’s eyes widened, realisation dawning on them. “Now, by bringing him his parents’ murderer, he could break Akira completely.”

“Exactly.” Yusuke nodded. “If we intend on getting the will tomorrow evening, then I suggest we must prepare all of our evidences for release, and quickly.”

“Oh, we can do that.” Futaba put her hand up, gesturing at herself and Mishima. “We’ve got all our crap in hard drives and all that junk. Haru-san has the other good stuff, right?”

“Yes.” Haru nodded. “Here, please prepare backups of everything, possibly in triplicates.”

“Give me the third copy,” Arsene said, and Futaba nodded. “If in the case your and monsieur Mishima’s release fails, I will ensure it.”

“You got it.” Futaba nodded.

“We should have the police ready to arrest people should they try to escape The Metaverse.” Sae frowned. “Makoto—see if you can have anyone bring a squadron tomorrow.”

“I shall ask Suou-san to help you as well.” Yusuke nodded, and Makoto nodded.

“I'll try my best. Satonaka-senpai may be able to pull strings for me.”

“If it so needed, I will try and hold the casino’s attention while we wait for Akira-kun’s signal about the will.” Haru said. “After defeating Akechi-kun downstairs, I think I may have established myself at least worthy enough for the High Limit special.”

“If they deny you of Akechi’s position, mademoiselle, you may play as my proxy.” Arsene replied, and Sae nodded.

“I will do whatever I can to ensure attention stays on her.” She said. “This will be my final game in The Metaverse.” A grin crossed her face, and Haru met it with determination. “Let us make it the grandest game of all.”

“Yes, Nijima-san.” Haru nodded.

“When the signal comes, we’ll try to evacuate the casino ASAP tomorrow night.” Ryuji volunteered, “I'll handle the casino with Ann, Iwai-san—”

“Yeah, I'll take on the rest of the hotel.” Iwai gruffly nodded. “What about you?” He jerked his head at Yusuke, and the young man hesitated.

“I will go with Arsene to meet Akira halfway.” He said after a moment of silence, and the room blinked at him. He looked down at his hands, and sighed. “All this time, I had been so blind to the truth, that I had left Akira to work on securing our freedom all alone.” He balled his hands into fists. “And it pains me to know he has suffered greatly for this game to end—I will not let him suffer through it alone for any moment longer.”

Ann’s eyes were glittering with awe and admiration. Ryuji gave him a lopsided grin, and Futaba hid her grin behind her hand. Mishima looked up at Iwai with a smile, and the man lowered his hat fondly. Haru sighed happily, clutching her hand over her heart, and Sae patted Makoto’s hand.

“Thank you, Yusuke-san.” Makoto said, taking a step forward to offer her hand for him to shake. “We leave our leader in your capable hands.”

Yusuke smiled back at her, and took her hand to shake it.

“Welcome to the Phantom Thieves,” Makoto said proudly. “We steal the corrupted desires of wretches and fiends, and expose them to the world.”

“Tomorrow night is my first, and your last heist.” Yusuke nodded. “I shall do whatever it takes to make it worthwhile.”

Arsene watched them talk, and smiled fondly to himself.

Like the hero of a romantic novel, so begins his fight for the love of his life, he thought. A fine specimen, indeed.

“Akira, my little diamond, you really have learned much more than I have.”

Yusuke turned to look at him, determination burning in his eyes, and he chuckled.

He had taught Akira well, it seemed, and he has seen Yusuke’s heart. Now he could only hope for happiness for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no preview for this one


	37. cela commence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (it begins)
> 
> Tonight, they could end it all.
> 
> Tonight, Akira was going to destroy The Metaverse—
> 
> Or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want this done asap
> 
> as usual, blah blah blah end notes.

Akira hadn’t had a long night’s worth of sleep in a long, _long_ time.

Groaning softly, he sat up to look around, and only then did he realise that his body wasn’t in pain. It wasn’t protesting, it wasn’t bruised and beaten to hell and back—

Today, he woke up _safe_.

His eyes widened, and he held himself back from bursting into tears. It was like hearing his uncle’s voice again was a magic charm, of sorts—hearing Katsuya promise him that Yusuke was coming somehow protected him through the entirety of the night before, and a comfortable, soft warmth settled in his chest.

Tonight, they could end it all.

Tonight, Akira was going to destroy The Metaverse—

Or die trying.

He rolled out of bed and looked up at the wallclock—9:30, which meant that Hifune’s shift was coming in soon. He nodded to himself and got dressed for the day—slipping into just a silk robe, hoping on the change of clothes Hifune would bring him. He peered outside the room to see unfamiliar yakuza guards making a move to get up from the couch. The front door opened, and much to Akira’s relief, he spotted Hifune standing behind the older yakuza guard, a bag slung over his shoulders.

“Hey, what’ve you got there?” One of the switching yakuza members asked, and Akira flinched. He hoped Hifune wouldn’t fail now, of all times—Akira could fight, but unarmed and against three other large, _armed_ men was a recipe for failure.

“Oh, shit I gotta study for an exam this Friday.” Hifune replied cheerfully, opening his bag to show clothes packed inside next to two books. “I mean, I’m still in college at the same time as this shindig, and I’d been missing classes thanks to the shifting.”

Much to Akira’s surprise, one of the yakuza guards about to leave smiled fondly. “Yer, tha’s Mune’s kid—he always picked out good kids.”

“Huh.” His partner hummed. “Well, good luck, uh—”

“Toranosuke.” Hifune replied, and the man gave him a perplexed look. “Yeah, my parents… aren’t very good at naming kids, clearly. Tora’s fine.”

“Tora.” The man nodded. “You’ve got Haruhiko over here with ya to keep an eye out on the Crown Jewel—heard you were a lucky kid who got a free fuck.” he grinned lecherously, and Hifune blushed.

“I-I, uh,” He shrunk slightly in embarrassment. “He was just lonely…”

Akira raised an eye at Hifune’s response. Was he just that good an actor or was he being sincere?

“Heh, that’s what they all say.” Haruhiko, the older man Hifune was partnered with snickered, and elbowed him. “A’ight, guys. We’ll take over—Joker should be waking up soon.”

“Alright.” The two guards gave them friendly waves, and Hifune and his partner stepped inside. Immediately Haruhiko headed towards the couch, and Hifune settled down near him on an armchair next to the coffee table. He set the bag down on the table, and pulled out the textbooks he brought with him. Much to Akira’s amusement, tucked between the pages of the textbook he picked up to read was a Featherman light novel.

Akira snorted softly. Futaba had the same book—it was a fan-made novel that had Red Falcon and Black Condor together as a couple. Hifune settled down to read it, and Akira decided to act.

“Oh, you’re back.” Akira said, sauntering out into the living room, and the two men looked at him. “I missed you.”

“Damn.” Haruhiko whistled, and Hifune laughed nervously.

“H-hello, Joker-san.” He said, closing his textbook and the light novel. “Did you just wake up?”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you.” Akira giggled, putting on his charming prostitute facade as he made his way over to Hifune to sit on his lap. “Last night you gave me your coat and now you’re asking how I am? That’s the kind of thing you’d like to see in a man.”

“That’s all it takes for you to jump on a man’s dick?” Haruhiko snorted, and Hifune looked at him witheringly.

“Maybe.” Akira winked at him, squeezing Hifune’s wrist reassuringly. “Wanna make… _lunch_ with me?” He purred, nuzzling the bleached blond’s neck, and he almost laughed at the sight of his skin turning pink at his actions.

“U-uh, sure.” Hifune looked at Haruhiko nervously. “Um. We’re.”

“Yeah, sure.” He waved at them both, “I’ll be right here—just gimme some grub too, Joker’s cooking is pretty good.”

Joker giggled, batting his eyelashes at him. “Aw, you’re kinda sweet too, aren’t ya?”

Haruhiko laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shucks.”

“C’mon,” Akira tugged on Hifune’s collar, getting up off his lap, and the two of them walked into the kitchen. They gave each other determined looks, and Hifune held up four foil packets of sleeping pills.

“Good,” Akira nodded. “After dinner, let’s get this started.”

* * *

“Rise and shine, mon cheri.”

Yusuke blinked blearily, sitting up straight to realise he’d fallen asleep on the soft, plush couch. He yawned, earning him a fond chuckle from Arsene, whom he saw as a black blob in the tears that blocked his vision as he yawned. Rubbing his eyes, Yusuke came to full awakeness to see the man was smiling at him fondly from across the couch, seated comfortably on an armchair.

“Ah, apologies…” He said dazedly, “I must have…” He yawned again, and Arsene chuckled. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“Indeed.” The Frenchman replied, checking his watch. “The rest of the Phantom Thieves should be in The Metaverse, along with mademoiselle Okumura and monsieur Suou. However, I have yet to receive a confirmation regarding the police that ought to be there. It seems mademoiselle Nijima had a hard time convincing the station to deploy.”

Yusuke frowned. “This must be Shido’s doing.”

“Oh, yes.” Arsene nodded, “There is no doubt about it—he has connections with the police, monsieur Suou said, but mademoiselle Nijima was insistent. An upperclassman may be able to help her, but as of yet, there has been no action regarding that.”

“I see.” Yusuke looked down at his hands. “What about Morgana?”

“Morgana is with those reporters mademoiselle Okumura hired. Upon monsieur Suou’s request, they were to stake out in front of the casino along with Sojiro. Shido might come after them at Leblanc.” Arsene nodded. “So far, seamless. My confidence is still peaked.”

“Will it come down any time soon?” Yusuke asked, and the man smiled at him wryly. The younger man chuckled softly, and he shook his head. “What is it that threatens your confidence, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Well,” Arsene sighed, “You have noticed a single uncontrollable factor in this entire operation, yes?”

Yusuke deflated. “The will.”

“Yes.” Arsene crossed his leg over the other as he leant back in his seat. “There is that singular, unsure chance that Akira will not find the will in that apartment tonight. Our preparations would be for naught.”

Yusuke looked up at the ceiling above them, and thought of Akira.

Right now, he and Arsene were sitting in a rented apartment room in Omote-sando, right underneath the one purportedly owned by Masayoshi Shido. Their seats were arranged to stay near the balcony, and he and Arsene began their wait for Akira’s actions to manifest.

“Well, we _are_ gamblers.” Yusuke said, and the man grinned at him. “To bet on risks is what we do best, I think.”

He peered at his old bokken leaning against the couch. He didn’t know if he really needed it—he was sure Shido’s people would be armed with something a little stronger than a wooden sword, but he felt safer bringing it along.

He turned to realise Arsene was looking at it, too and the man chuckled. “True, that.” He got up, and Yusuke raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you prefer, Fox? Tea, or coffee?”

Yusuke thought back to the cafe, to Hifune’s story about Akira working there, and smiled.

“Coffee.”

* * *

A delicate knock at the door had Shido lifting his head from his work, and it swung open to reveal Akechi, bruises now almost completely faded from his face.

“You called for me?” He asked softly as he shut the door behind him.

“Ah, Akechi. Tonight I want you to go to the apartment in Omote-sando.” He said dismissively, and Akechi’s eyes widened.

“B-beg pardon?” He asked, “Why there?”

“It seems we have a mole within our midst.” He smirked slowly as realisation dawned on Akechi’s face. “Munehisa Iwai has apparently inserted a mole into Hashiba on Akira’s behalf, a college student named Sena Hifune.” He tossed a folder at Akechi, who easily caught it. “It was highly likely he was planted there to help Akira escape, and to find the Nijima will.”

“I…”

“It was good foresight to save myself the trouble of worrying about the Nijima will—it is no longer in the apartment anyway, but Akira just _loves_ handing me chances to break his spirit.”

Akechi jolted. “It’s… not there anymore?”

“Not since Akira was locked in, no.” The man smirked. “I’ve relocated it to the Manager’s Suite.”

Akechi’s gut sank. Akira was in that apartment for nothing.

“You’ve crossed me enough times, child.” The man snapped, and Akechi jolted, snapping out of his shocked daze. “To make it up for me, kill anyone who tries helping Akira and lock him in his room.” His glare sharpened at his son. “And bring me the key. If he won’t sit still like the little bitch he is, then he doesn’t deserve the rest of the apartment.”

His world came to a slow around him, and his head felt too big—the air was thin, and his breathing grew shallow.

The will was so close, and yet so _far_.

“Am I understood?” Shido snarled, and Akechi flinched. “ _Answer me, boy._ ”

“Yes,” He replied, “I won’t fail you this time.”

Shido smirked wryly. “You’d better not, or you’ll be back as Crown Jewel yourself.”

Akechi’s body gave an involuntary jerk of fear, and the man’s smirk widened.

“I’ll be back with good news.” He managed, and shut the door behind him. Akechi slumped against the door, panting heavily.

He had to let Akira know—he had to get Akira out of there.

He pushed himself off the door, and ran.

* * *

Haru looked around nervously at the crowd. “This doesn’t… feel right, Miss Leviathan.”

“Yes.” Sae frowned, crossing her arms as she looked at Katsuya. “Renard?”

Katsuya hummed, lowering his head. “It looks dense. Was there an event we were supposed to know of?”

“I don’t know.” Haru replied worriedly. “I haven’t received an email…”

“Neither have I.” Sae nodded, and Ryuji approached them with their cards. “Skull—what’s going on?”

“Sorry, we just found out too—tonight, there’s an auction.” He said, and their eyes widened. “I dunno _why_ they’re doing this, but you know how a lot of people missed Joker these last few nights?”

“Yes.” Katsuya replied flatly, and Ryuji jumped.

“H-hey, you’re not…” the man gave him a pointed look, and Ryuji stood down. “R-right. Um.” He took a look around. “Suddenly there’s an auction that management announced the night before, apparently? No one but the guests knew about it, though.”

“What?” Sae blinked. “That’s preposterous—how could they have not told staff?”

“A moment, Madame,” Katsuya said, “Perhaps this was not orchestrated by management at all.”

Ryuji gaped at him. “W-wait, you mean this is—”

“A trap?” Haru finished, and Katsuya nodded. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands. “R-Renard…!”

“This is mere speculation, milady, but I deduce it is the most truthful explanation for this situation.” He said, “Skull, when will the auction be held?”

“A-after the High Limit special.” He replied, “Everyone is expected to be in attendance, and almost everyone is here already.” He looked at Haru, “Including Satanael’s proxy.”

Haru swallowed nervously. “I see. So my father is here tonight as well.”

“Unfortunately.” Sae agreed, patting Haru’s shoulder. “What time will the game start?”

Ryuji checked his watch. “About an hour. What should we do?”

Haru steeled her expression into a determined frown. “Please, tell Oracle to help us out for this.”

Ryuji nodded. “Sure, what do you want me to say?”

“We must drag out the game for as long as possible, by all means necessary.”

* * *

“Is he out?”

“Out cold,” Hifune confirmed, poking Haruhiko’s arm nervously. When the man didn’t respond, he let out a sigh of relief, turning around to see Akira finish putting on a shirt. “Hey, sorry for forgetting shoes—oh, I’ve seen you in those clothes before.”

Akira absently nodded, rooting around Hifune’s bag for pants. “Hifune-san, make a rope with the sheets and tie it to the balcony railing.” He said, pulling them on for the first time in what felt like ages, and he let out a relieved sigh at the sensation of finally being fully dressed again. Hifune nodded, hurrying into the bedrooms to pull off whatever sheet he could. “Here—tie them like this.” Akira quickly showed him the knot Iwai showed him to make a sturdy rope, and left Hifune to tie the rest of the sheets together.

He dove back into searching Hifune’s bag to find the infiltration tools he asked for—already fashioned into lockpicks, even—and he grinned when he saw a little note that fell out of the bag the lockpicks were in.

_I can’t wait to see you again._ _  
_ _\- Morgana_

He picked the paper up, and pressed a tender kiss to it.

“I’ll see you again, little brother.” He murmured, slipping it into his pocket. After picking up Hifune’s phone on the coffee table, he hurried to the study door and picked the lock with ease, stepping inside as Hifune finished off the bedsheet rope.

Carefully he shut the door behind him, and crept forward into the study, scanning all the books on the shelves with a suspicious glare. No—he wouldn’t keep the will in those, they weren’t secure enough, and he knew Shido—if there was anything admirable about him, it was how carefully the man operated.

He took a look around the study, frowning, and he approached the desk in the middle. He went around the table to see the drawers, and went through them one by one.

Arsene said he saw the will with Shido some time ago, hidden inside a nondescript, unmarked manila envelope. Akechi had told him it was in the study—specifically, in the desk, and he had to trust the brunet.

The both of them had the same goal, but he knew Akechi had different methods—and reasons. Still, Akira respected them—he knew Akechi was just as much of a victim as everyone else in The Metaverse crew was, first as Masayoshi Shido’s unfortunate son, and then Loki, the previous Crown Jewel of The Metaverse, and now—as the Detective Prince Goro Akechi, Shido’s puppet PR for the masses.

Akira grit his teeth. The will was _here_.

He just had to find it.

With quick and precise efficiency he picked the locks on the drawers that were locked, pulling them open to find more damning evidence of his involvement with dirty politics and the yakuza, but not the will.

“No, that’s not right, it can’t be—”

He jumped when Hifune’s phone rang, and Akira looked down at it to see a familiar name—Goro Akechi. His eyes widened, and he quickly answered it.

“Akechi?” He asked, and he heard the brunet make a distressed noise.

“ _Akira? Where are you right now? Are you—_ ”

“Akechi, the will, I can’t find it—it’s not in the study.” Akira said, “You said it was here.”

“ _I thought so too, but—oh, God, I’m so sorry—_ ”

“ _Goro_ ,” Akira breathed, “What’s going on?”

“ _Akira—the will isn’t there. Shido removed it before he brought you there._ ”

Akira’s eyes widened. “Then…”

He let himself get trapped in there for nothing.

“ _I’m on my way there. Please—stay s—_ ”

The call got cut off, and Akira’s blood ran cold. Quickly he hung up, and sent a text to Iwai.

_Mune-san, it’s me, Akira. Please tell everyone the will isn’t here in Shido’s apartment._

* * *

Iwai jumped at the sensation of his phone vibrating, and hurriedly he pulled it out of his pocket to see Hifune had texted.

No, not Hifune—

His eyes widened, and he read Akira’s message quickly.

“God _damn_ it.” He swore, and pressed a button on his earpiece.

“We’re on our own. The will isn’t there in Shido’s apartment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 38 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> “Ah, damn. It took us _forever_ to find this guy.” Yukki sighed, exhausted as she and Maya got out of their car to head to the gate of a simple little house, charming vines and flowers blooming along its walls. “I hope we’re not too late.” The two women exchanged nervous looks, and Maya took a deep breath.
> 
> “Here goes.” She said, and rang the bell.
> 
> A blonde woman answered the door, opening it slightly to peer at them. 
> 
> “U-uh, hi.” Yukki said, elbowing Maya, and the woman gave her a friendly smile.
> 
> “Ciao! I’m Maya Amano, a journalist from _Coolest_ magazine, and this is my partner and photographer Yukino Mayuzumi.” She said, “Is this the residence of Minato Arisato?”
> 
> The blonde narrowed her eyes at them, and a voice from further inside made her jump.
> 
> “Aigis, let them in.” A tired, soft voice called. “I’ve been expecting them.”
> 
> The blonde—Aigis—looked at Maya and Yukki carefully, but eventually nodded, opening the door fully and stepping aside to let them in. 
> 
> “Thank you so much,” Maya nodded at her pleasantly, and Aigis simply lowered her head. Yukki looked her over—she was in a simple, plain white dress, so she couldn’t tell if she was a maid or not, but moving her eyes lower, she realised Aigis had prosthetic legs, the feet shaped like hooves. Maya pulled her along, surreptitiously looking at them, too, but said nothing else. “Um, where can we meet him?”
> 
> “This way,” Aigis said politely, and led them through the entrance hall and into the living room, where much to Maya and Yukki’s surprise, a man in a wheelchair sat in front of a flickering fire, a photo album on his lap. 
> 
> “Um,” Maya said intelligently as he turned to look at them, and she jumped to see the emotion— _or lack thereof_ —in his eyes.
> 
> They were so… _empty_.
> 
> “You’re here to ask about my sister, aren’t you?”


	38. le Saint-Graal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the Holy Grail)
> 
> “Oh, wait—” Yukki began, “Is this… I heard about a myth a long time ago that there was hidden treasure inside The Orpheus Theater. So many people came to look for it when it was still open.”
> 
> “Yes, that’s the same thing.” Minato nodded once. “People assumed that the Holy Grail was The Orpheus’s treasure, and I guess they’re right—but it’s not the same kind of treasure people want it to be.”
> 
> He smiled softly, and Aigis finally relaxed, her smile mirroring the one on his face. 
> 
> “The cast and crew put their memories in there—mementos, for them to come back to when they all had kids and lives of their own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT:** for some fuckign reason AO3 won't let me embed this stupid ass tweet because the html _keeps fucking breaking for some goddamn reason_ so i'm a href linking it instead.
> 
> [the metaverse hotel exists, apparently.... (read through the thread for more pics)](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/923838572314030080)
> 
> as usual, chapter preview in the end notes.

Akira locked Hifune’s phone, and ran his hand through his hair, eyes wild with rising panic. Now what? How was he going to go about this?

A thud outside caught his attention, and he clutched Hifune’s phone close to his chest. Carefully he made his way to the door, his bare feet padding softly on the cold marble.

“Hifune-san?” He called out tentatively, but no response came. He swallowed nervously—Haruhiko was large, but both he and Hifune should be able to overpower him, especially if he was still drugged. The pills should have been strong enough for the man to stay asleep for at least an hour—what happened?

“Hifune-san?” Akira tried again, and when the young man didn’t respond again, Akira took a deep, nervous breath. “Hifune-san—” he opened the door, and saw Haruhiko holding Hifune close to himself, hand over his mouth and a gun to his temple. Akira froze, and the man pulled the blond back.

“Take another step, Joker, and the kid gets it,” he demanded, “Put the phone down, and your hands up. Akechi-san is coming.”

Akira’s hands balled into fists, and he steadied himself—the way the man held Hifune, he could at least manage to yank the blond out of his grip, haul him over the ledge of the balcony to get to the floor below.

He trusted Arsene to rent the room below this one—he _had_ to have managed.

“Just… hold on.” Akira said carefully. He had to be fast—he only had one chance at this.

Slowly he circled the room, until the open balcony was right behind him, and as he expected, the thug turned to keep facing him.

“If you’re thinking of jumping out the balcony, kid, that’s a 23-floor drop.” The man threatened, “And there’s only one of you two going over it.”

“I know,” Akira said, bracing himself. “That’s the plan.”

Suddenly he darted forward, knocking the man’s gun out of his hand before slamming the heel of his palm up his jaw, wincing when he heard a _crack_. Hifune completely froze up as he was suddenly set free, and Akira grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him out into the balcony.

“A-Akira-san—”

“Tell Arsene to get out of here, the will isn’t here,” he said hurriedly, pressing Hifune’s phone into his hand, “Grab the rope, hold on as tight as you can and swing into the balcony right below us.”

“You little—!” The thug was moving. Akira had to hurry.

Without letting himself hesitate, he pushed Hifune over the ledge, and the blond screamed as he grabbed onto the rope he made out of bedsheets.

“And tell Yusuke—tell him—”

The thug grabbed him and yanked him back, and Akira let him—but not without finishing his sentence.

“Tell Yusuke I love him, and I’m sorry I couldn’t see him one last time!”

* * *

“Fuck!” Ryuji swore, and Ann jumped in her place, gaping at him, though she knew why he finally swore properly. She heard Iwai’s message through their voice channel, too.

“The will… Akira,” she said fearfully, squeezing Ryuji’s arms, “Wh-what’re we gonna do?”

“We gotta keep going.” He replied, “We’re so close now—we’ve gotta make sure this casino ain’t gonna burn down yet. Not while so many people are in it.”

Ann bit her lip, and she nodded, determined. “Is Makoto’s police contact ready?”

“ _She should be._ ” Makoto replied, “ _I’m a little nervous, bit Satonaka-senpai is reliable. I’m sure she’ll manage._ ”

Ann and Ryuji shared nervous looks.

“Well, she’d better.” He said, “I’m not about to let a single one of these bastards walk free.”

* * *

“Chie, we can’t do this.”

“Shh, Yu!” the brunette grinned widely, and felt around the sleeping officer’s desk. “Just shut up for a sec, I’m concentrating.”

Yu frowned as Chie stuck her tongue out in concentration, jumping slightly when the both of them heard the slight jangling of keys. “ _Chie!_ ”

The brunette froze as the officer stirred, mumbling something indistinct, before settling down again. The two cadets let out twin sighs of relief, and Chie tried again.

Carefully she picked up the keys to his patrol car, and grinned widely at Yu.

“Oh, man.” The young man sighed.

“It’s showtime.” She grinned back at him.

* * *

“Ah, damn. It took us _forever_ to find this guy.” Yukki sighed, exhausted as she and Maya got out of their car to head to the gate of a simple little house, charming vines and flowers blooming along its walls. “I hope we’re not too late.” The two women exchanged nervous looks, and Maya took a deep breath.

“Here goes.” She said, and rang the bell.

A blonde woman answered the door, opening it slightly to peer at them.

“U-uh, hi.” Yukki said, elbowing Maya, and the woman gave her a friendly smile.

“Ciao! I’m Maya Amano, a journalist from _Coolest_ magazine, and this is my partner and photographer Yukino Mayuzumi.” She said, “Is this the residence of Minato Arisato?”

The blonde narrowed her eyes at them, and a voice from further inside made her jump.

“Aigis, let them in.” A tired, soft voice called. “I’ve been expecting them.”

The blonde—Aigis—looked at Maya and Yukki carefully, but eventually nodded, opening the door fully and stepping aside to let them in.

“Thank you so much,” Maya nodded at her pleasantly, and Aigis simply lowered her head. Yukki looked her over—she was in a simple, plain white dress, so she couldn’t tell if she was a maid or not, but moving her eyes lower, she realised Aigis had prosthetic legs, the feet shaped like hooves. Maya pulled her along, surreptitiously looking at them, too, but said nothing else. “Um, where can we meet him?”

“This way, please.” Aigis said politely, and led them through the entrance hall and into the living room, where much to Maya and Yukki’s surprise, a man in a wheelchair sat in front of a flickering fire, a photo album on his lap.

“Um,” Maya said intelligently as he turned to look at them, and she jumped to see the emotion— _or lack thereof—_ in his eyes.

They were so… _empty_.

“You’re here to ask about my sister, aren’t you?” He asked, gesturing at the couch he was next to, and the two women nodded, taking a seat.

“Um, yes.” Maya replied. “I’m Maya Amano, this is Yukino Mayuzumi. We’re here on behalf of Miss Haru Okumura chasing a lead about The Orpheus Theater.” At the mention of the theatre’s name, the man huffed softly, and he shook his head. Maya and Yukki shared nervous looks, and Maya tried again. “Minato Arisato-san?”

“Yes.” He nodded, “Hamuko Nijima was my twin sister.”

Maya gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry for your loss—it must have been hard on you.”

“It’s been years,” he replied, neither confirming nor denying her words. “Interestingly, only independent journalists have ever come to talk to me.” He looked into the flickering embers of the fire, and sighed. “And they all almost always never last.”

Yukki held Maya’s hand, squeezing it tightly, and Maya squeezed back.

“We’re willing to take the risk.” Maya said, and Minato huffed.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He said, and turned to look at Aigis. “Could you get them some tea, please?”

Aigis gave him a small bow and strode off. Minato sighed deeply and nodded.

“Ask away.”

Maya blinked. “Oh, um…” she scratched her cheek nervously, and Minato raised an eyebrow at her. “There’s a lead we’ve been chasing—has Hamuko ever told you about a will she made?”

The man remained silent, though his eyes widened at her words. Finally—some semblance of emotion in his eyes, but Maya hated the fact it was dawning shock. Yukki elbowed her surreptitiously.

“Keep going.” She hissed softly.

“Um—Arisato-san, we spoke with a lawyer who said Hamuko had made a second will with regards to The Orpheus. Unfortunately, she didn’t know where the will is now, but she directed us to you—you might know, she said.”

Minato lowered his head. “For the first time, I… don’t know.” He replied, and the two women deflated. Aigis arrived with three cups of tea, set them down in front of Maya, Yukki and Minato before settling down on a wooden chair next to Minato’s wheelchair. “Hamuko… never mentioned a will.”

“Oh…” Maya sighed.

“She… didn’t want to worry me too much—when Akihiko made his will, around that time, Shido was already after The Orpheus.” He wrung his hands. “Hamuko knew about my anxiety, and kept quiet about Shido after that.”

“I see.” Maya nodded, frowning.

“You know, it’s odd.” Minato laughed dryly. “People usually come to me for the start of the story, not the end of it.”

Maya gave him a sympathetic smile at that. “Well, Arisato-san, we plan on ending it.” She said, and Minato blinked at her.

“How did you hear about the start of it?” He asked her, and she scratched her cheek.

“Um, well—some of my childhood friend were part of The Orpheus.” She admitted, “Their lives were taken because of it, and their sons are now lost.”

Minato’s expression softened at her. “I see.”

“That’s why we have to avenge them.” Yukki said, “Your sister, her husband—everyone from The Orpheus.”

“Yes.” Minato closed his eyes, humming. His hands began to shake, and Maya jumped.

“U-um, Arisato-san—”

“Minato,” Aigis began, getting up, but he shook his head. Reluctantly she sat back down.

“Sorry. I was trying to remember The Orpheus before it burned down.” He said, looking back at Maya and Yukki. “I haven’t told a lot of people about this, but she mentioned to me something about a Holy Grail.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “Holy…Grail.”

She could feel Yukki reeling back. She never did like the occult, she thought with no small amount of pity.

“It’s nothing as crazy as the name suggests.” Minato shook his head. “It was… a time capsule.”

“A… time capsule?” Maya echoed. “What, like those little boxes people put things in, lock away somewhere and come back to in a few years?”

“Yes.” Minato’s brow furrowed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It had been… golden. A little golden box that they jokingly called the Holy Grail because they hid it away.”

“Oh, wait—” Yukki began, “Is this… I heard about a myth a long time ago that there was hidden treasure inside The Orpheus Theater. So many people came to look for it when it was still open—actually, even until now when it’s already The Metaverse.”

“Yes, that’s the same thing.” Minato nodded once. “People assumed that the Holy Grail was The Orpheus’s treasure, and I guess they’re right—but it’s not the same kind of treasure people want it to be.”

He smiled softly, and Aigis finally relaxed, her smile mirroring the one on his face.

“The cast and crew put their memories in there—mementos, for them to come back to when they all had kids and lives of their own.” He fell quiet, and looked at the album on his lap. “You can guess what happened after that.”

Maya deflated. “Yes, unfortunately…” She looked at the album on his lap. “Um, is it alright if I asked what that album is about?”

“Oh, this? It’s photographs of the theatre.” He replied, opening it to show her and Yukki photographs of the old facade, the cast and crew in candid shots in the middle of different activities—practice, laughing together. Maya smiled sadly at a photograph of Jun and Tatsuya together, carrying a baby, and she gently touched the baby’s face. Minato smiled softly.

“Are they your childhood friends?” He asked, and she nodded, sighing fondly. “Jun Kurosu and Tatsuya Suou, huh… they adopted a little boy together. Akira.”

“Yeah,” She replied, “Katsu—um, a friend and I are looking for him and his little brother.”

“I see.” Minato nodded. “I think I remember what Kurosu-san put in the box—his engagement ring.”

Maya lit up. “Oh, I’ve heard that story. Tatsuya proposed right after the opening night of Jun’s first play as the main role.”

Minato hummed, smiling. “So many precious memories…” he shut his eyes, and nodded. “I think the Holy Grail holds the other will, if it exists.”

Maya came to a stop at a photo of Minato, his sister and Akihiko, the three of them smiling widely, standing together on the stage. He looked down at it, and laughed softly. “Oh, yeah. Back then I could walk.”

“What happened?” Maya asked, and Minato shook his head.

“The fire didn’t take just my sister and brother-in-law.”

She deflated at that, and nodded. “I… I see. I’m so sorry this happened to your family.”

“It’s been years.” He said, neither confirming nor denying her words, though now, the ghost of a smile was on his lips. “Well, shouldn’t you be calling your employer right now?” He asked, finally picking up his clay cup of tea. “This lead seemed urgent.”

“R-right!” Maya hurried to her feet, “Yukki, I’ll be out on the porch for a sec—I’ve gotta call Ichiko-chan!”

“Please, this way.” Aigis suddenly said, standing up, and Maya blinked at her. “We have had a journalist who was shot with a sniper while he was on the porch.” The taller woman gaped at her, and she lowered her head. “The connecting room is safer. This way, please.”

“Th-thank you.” Maya looked nervously at Yukki, who took a clay cup with uneasy hands. “I’ll… uh, just,” she made a vague gesture at Aigis, and followed her out.

Minato chuckled softly, and took a sip of his tea as Yukki eyed him nervously.

“Oh, by the way… I think it’d be a good idea for you two to stay the night here.” He said, and Yukki gulped. Minato shook his head fondly, and settled down to watch the fire burn. “And maybe this time, this story can finally end.”

* * *

Morgana hated being a kid, sometimes. That meant he was left alone in a safer place while all the adults did the running and rescuing, and he itched to go outside and help. Akira was his _brother_ , for crying out loud—if anyone was the first to go looking for him, it should have been Morgana. He pouted petulantly, peering out the window of the car in the backseat, Sojiro already asleep beside him while Ichiko and Seiji were both poring over their phones, working on another case they were chasing. It wasn’t connected to The Metaverse—this was an assignment from their newspaper, so their conversation flew right over Morgana’s head. It wasn’t until Ohya’s phone rang when he vaguely heard a familiar name being spoken. _That_ grabbed his attention, and his eyes widened.

“Maya-chan? You’re sure about this? Absolutely, _really_ sure?” Ohya breathed.

“ _Yes!_ ” Morgana’s eyes welled up with tears at the sound of his Aunt Maya’s voice again. “ _Inside The Metaverse there’s the Holy Grail! It should be somewhere renovations hasn’t touched too much. Do you know a place?_ ”

“Shit, no!” Ohya hissed.

She didn’t know— _but Morgana did._

“ _Damn, I—look, the second Nijima will is there, okay? I can_ feel _it, it’s definitely there. Hamuko Nijima was a careful woman, she was super smart—_ ”

“Yeah, I _love_ her.” Ohya frowned. “I think she really would have made a will herself, in the case Akihiko’s will got damaged.”

“ _Yeah, yeah! If you guys could find that will, then you wouldn’t have to go looking for Akihiko Nijima’s will!_ ”

Morgana’s heart felt like it stopped.

If he found that Holy Grail, it meant Akira wouldn’t have to stay in Shido’s apartment any longer?

He had to move— _he had to move right now._

* * *

Ohya hung up, sighing in exhaustion. “Seiji, we should give Suou-san a call, he’ll need to know this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Seiji sighed, “Hey, Morgana-chan, can you hand me th—” He stopped, and Ohya cocked her head at him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and Seiji looked back at her, pale.

“He’s gone.”

“Huh?” Ohya whirled around to look, and just as Seiji said, the boy was gone, leaving only the softly-snoring Sojiro in the backseat, Mona curled up and asleep on his lap. He didn’t even stir. Her expression fell, and she ran a hand down her face. “Shit, we forgot to turn on the child lock.”

“Yeah.” Seiji nodded stiffly. The two reporters looked at each other, and laughed nervously.

“Suou-san’s gonna kill us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 39 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Shido approached the table, and looked pointedly at Haru.
> 
> “Another newcomer?” He asked, and after getting a good look at her, he nodded. “Oh, it’s you. The girl who wiped the floor with my Crow the night before.” 
> 
> The crowd tittered with nervous, excited energy, and Okumura’s horror only grew. Haru smiled at him sweetly and gave him an elegant curtsy. 
> 
> “Thank you, Mister Samael. My name is Noir.” She said politely, “It was easy, after a while. The sensation of crushing such a powerful person so easily was quite enthralling. I hope to achieve the same results with tonight’s game.”
> 
> She looked around the table, and smiled wider. “With _everyone_ at this table.”
> 
> Shido’s smirk widened, and he looked to Okumura. “Well, we have quite a competitor tonight, don’t we, Mammon?”
> 
> The man shook his head, his hands trembling. “I refuse. Noir isn’t a legal proxy. Let her out of here, this inst—”
> 
> “Mister Mammon,” Haru interrupted him, and the man visibly jolted. “I won against Crow last night, and Satanael trusts me to take his place.” She set her hands on the table confidently, and smirked at her father. “And I _will_ use it, to take you down.”
> 
> The man’s jaw dropped at her. “You... insolent… child.”
> 
> Haru chuckled and sat down, the first on her seat in outright defiance of Shido.


	39. le choix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the choice)
> 
> “Akira.” He pressed. “Only you can end this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo and welcome to bukkun projecting onto hifune so very hard, part 190280874820498. i love arsene so much goddamn.
> 
> anyway i'll be updating daily now since there are only 7 updates to go (including this one) so expect that the story will end nov 4.
> 
> as usual, etc. etc.

The house was full tonight.

Sae strode over to the High Limit game’s play table, where most of the High Limit players had already gathered. Beside her, Mishima peered nervously at the crowd Ryuji was managing, but a jab from her made him look forward again, helping her into her seat at the table. She barely registered Mishima scurrying away as she eyed the other players already present—Kamoshida was wringing his hands nervously on his lap, looking around at the members at the table like they knew something he didn’t. Madarame was also seated at the table, generally more composed than he was, though Sae could see the way he gripped his kimono’s sleeves. Something made the old man nervous.

Kaneshiro and Shido had yet to arrive, but Okumura was already in his usual place next to Sae, and she greeted the man politely.

“Ah, good evening.” He replied with a nod of his head. “Where is Satanael? I had wanted to speak with him regarding an object of interest.”

“Oh, as far as I know, he has a proxy for tonight’s game.” She said, and she heard Mishima speak in her earpiece.

“ _Noir and Renard, coming in._ ”

“And I do believe she is arriving right now.” Sae turned around to see Mishima escorting Haru and Katsuya towards them, and she felt no small amount of smug delight in seeing Okumura’s infallible expression finally crumble.

“Hello, Miss Noir.” She greeted easily, turning to face her, and Okumura gaped as Katsuya helped Haru sit down on Arsene’s usual seat. Madarame regarded her with a cool look of interest, and Kamoshida’s eyes followed the curves of her body. Sae resisted the urge to slap the man’s face away.

“Hello, Miss Leviathan.” She said sweetly, and turned to Katsuya. “Thank you, Renard.”

Katsuya bowed at her wordlessly, and stood to her side between her and Sae. Haru turned to look at the table, and gave polite nods at Kamoshida, Madarame, and then her father.

“You—” Okumura began, shooting up onto his feet, and Haru cocked her head at him innocently.

“Yes, sir?” She asked, “Oh—you must be Mister Mammon. Satanael did mention you.”

“Young lady, what do you think you’re—”

“Huh? What’s going on here?” Kaneshiro had arrived at last, and Sae turned to see the man take a seat next to Okumura. He peered at the man on his feet, and then at Haru, and cocked his head. “And who’re you?”

“My name is Noir.” Haru replied pleasantly, bowing at them from her seat. “I am here on behalf of my friend, Satanael.”

Okumura gaped at her. He knew who she was, of course—

It was easy to forget, but he was a father, first and foremost.

The crowd burst into murmurs, but Futaba’s arrival at the table silenced them all when she clapped her hands for their attention. She said nothing as she gestured towards Samael’s seat, and Sae frowned as she got onto her feet. The rest of the table followed her example, Katsuya helping Haru back onto her feet as he pulled her chair back.

Shido approached the table, and looked pointedly at Haru.

“Another newcomer?” He asked, and after getting a good look at her, he nodded. “Oh, it’s you. The girl who wiped the floor with my Crow the night before.”

The crowd tittered with nervous, excited energy, and Okumura’s horror only grew. Haru smiled at him sweetly and gave him an elegant curtsy.

“Thank you, Mister Samael. My name is Noir.” She said politely, “It was easy, after a while. The sensation of crushing such a powerful person so easily was quite enthralling. I hope to achieve the same results with tonight’s game.”

She looked around the table, and smiled wider. “With _everyone_ at this table.”

Shido’s smirk widened, and he looked to Okumura. “Well, we have quite a competitor tonight, don’t we, Mammon?”

The man shook his head, his hands trembling. “I refuse. Noir isn’t a legal proxy. Let her out of here, this inst—”

“Mister Mammon,” Haru interrupted him, and the man visibly jolted. “I won against Crow last night, and Satanael trusts me to take his place.” She set her hands on the table confidently, and smirked at her father. “And I _will_ use it, to take you down.”

The man’s jaw dropped at her. “You... insolent… child.”

Haru chuckled and sat down, the first on her seat in outright defiance of Shido.

“Beginner’s luck,” she said, meeting Shido’s glare evenly as he sat down after her. “I’ve heard the story from Satanael—about a young fox who defeated the greedy, prideful king.” Shido’s frown deepened at her words. “I would not underestimate the power of beginner’s luck, Mister Samael,” she folded her hands together as Sae and the rest of the table sat down after them. “It truly is a powerful thing.”

“We will see about that.” The man replied tartly, “Oracle, let us begin.”

Futaba looked at Sae, Haru and Katsuya confidently, and nodded.

“Good evenin’, ladies and gents!” She called, “Tonight, we’ll start a High Limit Special no one will ever forget!”

* * *

Arsene heard the commotion upstairs before Yusuke did, and he shot up onto his feet, alarming the younger man as he threw open the balcony doors in time to see a person flying in from the balcony above, screaming, as he held onto a makeshift rope. He steeled himself and caught him in his arms—

And blinked in alarm when he saw a squirming young blond, still shaking in fear and panic.

“Ah, you must be Iwai’s part-timer.”

“Hifune-senpai?” Yusuke gaped, getting up as the young man snapped out of his daze to gape at Arsene.

“Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.” The young man breathed. “Oh, my god. I don’t think I’m as straight as I think I am.”

Yusuke shook his head exasperatedly. There was no time for him to wonder what happened to his senpai—there were more important things to worry about.

“Akira,” he said hurriedly, “Senpai, where is Akira?”

“Aki—Akira-san!” Hifune squirmed in Arsene’s arms. “He’s still upstairs! He pushed me out of the apartment over the balcony, he—he’s still in there with a yakuza guy—”

“How many?” Yusuke pressed, and the blond shook his head in panic.

“U-uh, just the one—the switch isn’t happening yet until—”

Yusuke wasted no time, grabbing his bokken’s handle and bolting out the door. Arsene jolted, and he whirled around, futilely trying to stop him.

“Hey, wait—” Hifune began, but he let out a muffled shout when Arsene kissed him, hard. His cheeks were bright red when the man pulled away, the younger man left gaping at him as Arsene pulled away from him, picking up a revolver from the table. “Oh, wow…”

“Listen, _cheri_ , you have to vacate the building. Keep yourself safe, report back to Iwai as quickly as you can.” He said, loading six bullets, spinning the barrel with a frown. “Ah, I hate guns.”

“Um, mister?” Hifune poked Arsene’s arm gingerly. “My partner said Akechi-kun’s coming. Please—he’ll get into trouble, too.”

“My dear,” Arsene gave him a strained smile, “ _I’ll take care of him._ ” He said pointedly, snapping the revolver shut, but Hifune shook his head insistently.

“The will isn’t there.” He said, and Arsene stopped.

“ _No._ ” He breathed. “It _should_ be—”

“Akira-san said so.” Hifune said, “Please, you got to get the three of them safely out of there.” Hifune’s hand balled into Arsene’s sleeve gingerly. “Akechi-kun… he’s a victim too.”

Arsene deflated, and sighed, gently prying Hifune’s hand from his clothes.

“He killed the man I love.”

Hifune flinched.

“How am I supposed to _save_ him?” He fought a snarl, but the blond shook his head.

“There had to be a reason.” Hifune said, “He’s… he’s a good guy, I promise. Just really deep into shit just like everyone else in this story.” He met Arsene’s eyes, and his eyes widened slightly. “You’re… Arsene… Lupin-san, right?”

The man blinked at the blond, before sighing. “I know.” He said, “My anger… my anger still gets the better of me. It’s been four years.”

Hifune pulled away from the man as he straightened up.

“Very well. I swear, I will not take any lives—as I always have.” He said firmly, and Hifune smiled at him softly.

“Yeah, I figured. There was no way you killed Detective Ganimard, like what the news said.” The young man said, “When it’s from Shido, I’m not buying it.”

Arsene laughed sadly. “You are wise to do so.” He bowed at the blond, “Well, I shall be off. Be safe.”

Hifune nodded, determined, and Arsene hurried out after Yusuke. When they were gone, the blond sighed, deflating against the couch. He looked at his phone tiredly, frowning.

“Everyone better make it okay out of this.” He muttered, before slinking back against the chair.

A long moment of silence passed, and he jolted.

“Ah.” He breathed. “My Featherman light novel…”

* * *

Yusuke hurried up the fire escape in record time, bolting for the room Akira was being kept in, and he skidded to a halt in front of the door and took a deep breath. He prepared the bokken, gripping the handle tightly as he rang the doorbell with his free hand. He shifted out of the way of the peephole, forcing his breaths to stay steady as the door opened up.

“Akechi-san?” The man asked, and it was time to move.

Yusuke darted forward, turning the bokken in his hands to drive the handle into the man’s gut, and the man crumpled to the ground, the wind knocked out of his lungs. Panting nervously, Yusuke turned the bokken in his hands again, lifting it in a ready stance as he snuck into the apartment.

He frowned at the sight of it—it was lavish and luxurious, and it made his blood boil thinking about how it was all thanks to stolen taxpayer money. Carefully he made his way through the apartment, spotting an ajar door, light streaming in from inside. Cautiously he nudged the door open, and he spotted a body jolt on a bed inside.

“Who’s there?” Akira snapped, and Yusuke’s eyes widened. He threw the door open, and he saw Akira lying on his side in bed, hands bound together behind his back. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Yusuke felt his world slow to a halt.

There he was—dressed like he normally did at Rafflesia, like the Akira he thought he knew.

The Akira he fell in love with.

“Yusuke…” Akira breathed, and just like that, the shock was enough to snap Yusuke out of his daze, and he hurried to Akira’s side, panting. “Yusuke, i-it’s really—”

“Akira.” Yusuke breathed, cupping Akira’s face in his hands, “I’m so sorry—I never thought—I didn’t know—”

Akira sat up as best as he could, cutting Yusuke off with a tender kiss, and Yusuke kissed him back, setting his bokken down on the bed next to Akira. He pulled Akira into a warm hug, feeling him shaking against his body.

“Yusuke, you…” Akira breathed. “You’re here.”

“I am,” Yusuke nodded, pulling away from Akira to look into his eyes. “I wanted to meet you halfway. I wanted to save you.”

Akira’s eyes widened, filling with tears.

Yusuke met him halfway—

He wasn’t wrong to think of him as his Orpheus.

“We have to get out of here.” Yusuke said, turning Akira around to look at the zip-tie binding his wrists together behind him. “The will, I know you’re looking for it—”

“It’s not here.” Akira said, hissing softly as Yusuke shimmied the zip-tie off Akira’s wrists. Tenderly Yusuke rubbed them, but he blinked at Akira in shock.

“The will… is not here?”

“No.” Akira shook his head, frowning. “Akechi, he was about to tell me where it was, but—”

A crash outside made the both of them jump, and Yusuke shot to his feet, holding up his bokken. Akira looked at it, and laughed softly. “I almost forgot you mentioned you did kendo back in high school.”

Yusuke gave him a sideways grin. “Until college, actually. However, I haven’t had the chance to practice properly recently.” Akira huffed fondly at that, and he pressed a kiss to Yusuke’s cheek as he rolled out of bed to root around the closet for shoes.

“Well, bringing a sword to a gunfight. Not the smartest move, Mr. Fox.” He said fondly, and Yusuke jumped when Akira stepped on the bed’s frame in stiletto high heels.

Yusuke laughed nervously, shaking his head. “And a wooden one, dear Joker. Whatever shall I do?”

“I love you.” Akira laughed, taking Yusuke’s hand. “I don’t know the whole story, but right now, I’m just glad you’re here.”

“As am I.” Yusuke replied, “I will catch you up the moment we are free of this place.”

“Yusuke? Akira?” Arsene’s voice was a welcome sound, and the two lit up, throwing the door open to see the man standing over two more unconscious men. The Frenchman lit up, and hurried over into the room with them. “Ah, I am glad you are safe, my dear.”

“Didn’t think I would be either,” Akira grinned at Arsene, and the man’s gaze softened at their joined hands. “Let’s go.”

“Of course.” Arsene nodded, and they hurried outside into the apartment’s living room—only to be met with the first yakuza thug, now recovered, and beside him—Akechi.

Akira’s heart stopped, and Yusuke pulled Akira to stand behind him, scowling as he held his bokken out, ready to fight.

“Bringing a _wooden sword_ to a gunfight.” Akechi drawled, cocking his handgun with a sigh before lifting it to point at them. “I’ve seen you take so many risks, Kitagawa, but this is the dumbest one yet.”

Yusuke grinned back at him wryly. “What can I say?” He shot back, “I _was_ the better gambler.”

Akechi’s expression tightened. “Listen—Akira. Let’s strike a deal.”

Akira frowned deeper, and Yusuke and Arsene stood in front of him protectively.

“No, stand aside.” Akira said gently, and the two men looked at him.

“Akira—” Yusuke began, but the prostitute shook his head, gently pushing them aside to face Akechi properly.

“What do you propose?”

Akechi’s lips curled up into a broken smile. “You leave Kitagawa, and I will hand you the will myself.” He said, and Akira’s eyes widened in shock. “I know where it is—Shido moved it to the Manager’s Suite—I’d meant to tell you, but the call got cut. Not that it matters—right now, we’re all still trapped here, and only one of us is walking out alive.”

He moved the gun to point at Yusuke. “And it’s either him,” he said, before moving it to Arsene, “Or him.”

“Akechi, you—”

“Leave Yusuke, and he walks free.” Akechi said, “Stay with him, and we all die here, and Lupin gets to live to tell the tale.” He gave the man a sardonic grin, “Just like the _last_ time I killed someone precious to you.”

Arsene bit back a snarl. “You little—” he held himself back, and he shook his head. “Listen, _child_ , a young man pleaded for me to spare you—do not make his efforts in vain.”

At that, Akechi seemed to hesitate, faltering ever so slightly, but he quickly squashed that feeling down.

“Akira.” He pressed. “Only you can end this.”

He turned to look at Akira, and the young man shook his head.

“Akechi, I want you to know I still believe that there’s a good person in you.” He said, before stepping back to take Yusuke’s free hand in his. “But I love Yusuke.”

Something seemed to shatter in Akechi’s eyes. “ _Akira_ , I’ve done so much for you, we’ve been through so much together—don’t you get that I love you?”

He’d said it. He never got the chance to, and Arsene deflated slightly.

Robin, as he loathed to admit it, was exactly the same.

Akira shook his head. “I never asked for you to love me.” He said, and much to Yusuke’s shock, he stood in front of him, covering him with his body. “And I don’t owe you anything. _I_ made it here myself, of my own volition.”

“I-I’m going to _kill_ you if you don’t move.” Akechi’s voice was strained. His hand shook with hesitation.

Akira met his eye, trusting him completely that he couldn’t do it.

“Then do it.” Akira replied. “I love Yusuke. Despite all that you’ve done, I still get to choose who I love.”

Akechi hesitated, and his finger pulled the trigger. Yusuke flinched, pulling Akira close to himself on reflex, only to find the other thug on the floor, a red dot in the middle of his forehead.

Akira released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Akechi.”

“Just—just once, call me by my given name.” The brunet refused to meet his eye.

“I…”

“Before I let you go.”

Yusuke and Akira shared worried looks.

“ _Please._ ”

Akira deflated, and he carefully walked forward to press a tender kiss to Akechi’s temple, hand to his cheek tenderly.

“Thank you for understanding, Goro.”

The brunet flinched, and moved away.

“I never asked you to break my heart.” He replied, turning away from them. “Go. You’ll find the will in the Manager’s Suite, but be careful—I heard the hotel was on fire.”

The three of them shared horrified looks, and Akechi stepped aside, gesturing at the front door. “ _Go._ ”

“Akira.” Yusuke squeezed Akira’s elbow, and Akira looked at him. “Come on. Akechi gave us this chance.”

Arsene headed onwards first, and Yusuke followed suit, pulling Akira along with him. The prostitute cast one last glance at Akechi, who took a seat down on the couch to pick up Hifune’s light novel, and that was the last of him that he saw before the door shut behind him.

“Come on, come on,” Arsene huffed, and the three of them hurried towards the elevator only to see the doors open, bringing with it a new backup squad of yakuza thugs. They spilled out of the elevator, backing the three of them back up towards the apartment again.

“Oh, _merde._ ” The thief swore, and fired his revolver upwards—smashing the lights, plunging their world into darkness. Yusuke darted forward, parting their small crowd with wide swings of his bokken, smacking men aside. He pulled Akira along with him, but the black-haired man turned to look at Arsene, panicked, when the man didn’t go after them.

“Arsene—”

“Go, Akira!” Arsene grinned at the two of them over his shoulder, tossing Akira the controller for the Audi. “Whatever we do, if the three of us leave, they _will_ follow us.” Yusuke and Akira looked at the thief in panic as the rest of the yakuza thugs began to recover. “ _Take the car. Get the will._ ” He said in French, “ _I will hold them off as long as I can._ ”

Akira bit his lip, and Yusuke tugged on his wrist.

“Come on.” He said, and Akira shut his eyes, and nodded.

The two of them hurried into the elevator, and Arsene made sure the doors slid shut on them before looking for a way out on his own. There was a panel above his head he could dash through, he realised, and he jumped up to open the panel—

But was too late, when a hand grabbed his ankle and dragged him down.

 _You will be caught,_ Chihaya Mifune’s voice said in Arsene’s head as his world turned black, and yet somehow he could only smile.

Akira and Yusuke could take care of themselves, the Phantom Thieves would be able to set the casino free, the Queen’s Necklace was returned to his family’s ancestral home. Anyway, it wasn’t like he had anything else left to do.

He had nothing to lose, after all—he already lost his world that fateful night four years ago.

Maybe now was the time to see Robin again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 40 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> “My name is Haru Okumura.” She said, and her father got onto his feet in shock. “No, Father—don’t interrupt me. You’ve been interrupting me for far too long.”
> 
> She took a deep breath. “My mother loved The Orpheus Theater, and I did, too. As a child, I thought it was what heaven looked like, and now as a grown woman, I realise that The Metaverse had turned The Orpheus into Tartarus, the literal embodiment of hell.” She slammed her hands down on the table. “In this hell, many of my friends are trapped, and we all aim to escape it all, and hold every single one of you accountable. You, _Masayoshi Shido_ , and _you, Father_ , for funding the transformation of my mother’s second home after she told you not to, right on her deathbed.”
> 
> Shido got up, laughing lowly as he took his mask off. “You foolish, foolish girl.” He said, “Have you ever heard of what happened to Detective Inspector Robin Ganimard, right at the spot where you stand right now?”
> 
> Haru met his eyes determinedly. “Yes.” She replied, “His lover sends his regards.”
> 
> Shido raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. “Oh?”
> 
> “And so do the officers in the force he left behind.” Katsuya said, pulling off his own mask and taking out his service firearm to point at Shido. Panic flared in the casino, and the guests began to flee, but the man simply smirked back at Katsuya. Unnoticed by the rest of the table, Futaba hurried away, making a beeline for the reception. 
> 
> “Katsuya Suou.” He said. “I had sent my useless son to try and kill you, and the police completely missed you. Well—nice to know the elder of the two is hardier than the other.”
> 
> Katsuya didn’t even flinch. “You’re under arrest.”
> 
> “I hold the police, you fool.” Shido snarled, and Sae shook her head. 
> 
> “We do not expect the rule of law to judge you properly,” She said, taking her mask off. “The public will do it for us.”


	40. le début d'la fin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the beginning of the end)
> 
> “Holy shit.” He breathed. “ _Holy shit_. It’s _everywhere_. The evidence, it’s—”
> 
> A bewildered grin crossed his face. 
> 
> “It’s _over_ , Shido.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the most over-hyped group of sentences in the entire fic is here, whee.
> 
> i took a lot of liberties in this fic, btw. artistic license or whatever kind of excuse you want me to use, i'm tired of sorting out logistics and realism. whatever.
> 
> as usual, etc.

Morgana made his way into the casino easily—he crouched down low enough that no one really noticed him—not that anyone would. The casino staff corridors were oddly empty, but Morgana didn’t mind. He had somewhere to go, and he had to get to it, quickly.

He passed by a pair of security staff hurrying towards the casino, and they hardly noticed him in their hurry. He blinked at them in confusion until they turned a corner, and Morgana saw a figure standing in the darkness beyond the large whirring generators and machinery for the casino games. The boy came to a slow, straightening up as he squinted at the figure, cocking his head.

“What’s…?” He took a step forward, when he heard _that man’s_ horrifying laughter echo through the hallway.

“Well, well! It’s the other Suou boy!” Tatsuya Sudou cackled, and Morgana’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “Your whore brother is trapped in an apartment and you’re trapped in here with _me_. How fun!”

Morgana wasted no time listening to him any further—

He bolted away from the man, and the thundering footsteps behind him felt like a giant chasing after him, and he could feel tears prickling his eyes as he turned corner after corner in panic.

No, he couldn’t cry now, not ever—Akira needed him, he just couldn’t—

“Psst, over here!”

Morgana jumped at the sound of a woman’s voice, and he turned to see a hand beckoning him into an open ventilation shaft. He looked behind him to see Sudou’s shadow approaching the corner he turned, and he swallowed nervously.

This was a gamble—a very dangerous gamble.

He looked back at the shaft.

Well, The Metaverse hinged on gamblers and the games inside it.

Morgana had to take a chance.

He dove into the vent, and he let out a scream when he heard Sudou cackling right behind him. He felt a hand grab his wrist, pulling him into the vents further just in time to narrowly miss Sudou’s hand reaching inside the ventilation shaft to grab his ankle.

“I’ll get you, you little brat! I’ll smoke you out like a kitten in a barn!”

“This way!” the woman called him, her voice soft and lyrical and so… _kind_. “It’s safe over here!”

Morgana fought his tears as he kept going, crawling through the shaft towards the sound of the woman’s voice, frowning slightly as he tried to pinpoint where her voice was coming from.

“Just keep crawling forward until you get to a junction. Then turn left!”

Morgana looked over his shoulder at the shaft, relieved to see Sudou was gone. Taking a deep breath, he pushed onwards.

He’ll trust the voice for now—it was the only thing he could _do_.

* * *

“Dude, what the _fuck_.”

Mishima gasped softly. “Sakamoto, that’s the second time you said that tonight!”

Makoto fought a giggle. This was supposed to be a serious operation, but she was grateful her friends kept it light, regardless. She wouldn’t know what to do without them.

“Well, when shit keeps happening, sometimes I gotta.” The blond scowled, “But never mind that. Look!”

Makoto’s eyes widened, and she and Mishima looked at the screen Ryuji was looking at. She frowned slightly at the sight of the staff corridors—eerily empty, though that was a given, considering they had a full house that night—for both regular and non-regular players. Until then, they still hadn’t figured out why The Metaverse was full, and the lack of updates from Chie made Makoto nervous. Something was about to go horribly wrong here, and she didn’t like it.

“What are we supposed to be looking at?” Mishima sighed, and Ryuji looked at him pointedly, before rewinding the video a minute prior.

Makoto’s heart leapt to her throat when she saw Morgana sprinting down the corridor, looking absolutely frightened.

“Morgana!” she breathed, clasping her hands over her mouth. “What’s he doing here? I thought he was with the Boss!”

“Hell if I know!” Ryuji hissed, “And he looks scared shitless! We gotta find him!”

“Wait.” Makoto cut Mishima’s panicked reply. “He’s _running from something._ ” She said, “Check the corridor he came from.”

Ryuji nodded, and they looked over at another camera angle. Much to their shock, Sudou was chasing after him, and Mishima bit back a panicked yell.

“Oh, my god.” Makoto breathed. “ _He’s here._ ”

“Makoto, you know what this means.” Ryuji said, and she met his eye, nodding gravely.

“He’s going to blow up this place. I don’t know why—but we have to save everyone.”

“How?” Ryuji hissed, “Remember what we tried earlier tonight? We got laughed at!”

Makoto bit her lip, frowning deeply. “We just didn’t create a situation dire enough.”

Ryuji blinked at her. “Wh-what do ya mean?”

Makoto met his eye. “You have a lighter? Or a matchstick, whatever—something like that.”

His eyes widened, and Makoto jumped when Mishima pressed a lighter into her hand. She gave him a surprised look, and he laughed sheepishly.

“I-I, uh, saw it in a video game once.” He explained lamely, “I thought maybe we’d need to hit the fire alarms, so I brought one along.”

“Whoa.” Ryuji blinked at him, and Makoto grinned.

“Thanks.” She nodded, and looked at Ryuji. “Get ready to start getting people out of the hotel with Iwai-san. Mishima, get the data ready. Ann and Futaba-chan—”

“ _We'll work on the casino._ ” Ann replied in their earpieces. “ _How about your police contact, Makoto?_ ”

Makoto bit her lip. “She’s coming.” She said, confidently, and gripped her phone tightly. “I… I _know_ Suou-san can help her.”

* * *

“Chie, this is the stupidest idea ever.”

It was by sheer luck that the roads were generally clear tonight, though with midnight steadily approaching, Yu wondered why there weren’t at least just a little more cars on the road right now. Still, with how fast Chie was going, he was sure even if there _were_ more cars on the road, there would soon _be_ no cars on the road.

The police sirens of the patrol car they were in were blaring loudly. The lights flashed red, then blue, and red, and Yu found himself thinking maybe the police life in Tokyo—even if he and Chie _were_ still cadets—wasn’t his thing.

At a comfortable distance behind them, an uncomfortable amount of police cars and motorcycles were after them. Well, the Tokyo PD really didn’t have _too_ much on their plate tonight. Two renegade cadets stealing a patrol car was apparently the biggest thing of the night.

They were going to lose their badges and head straight into the slammer for this.

“What are you talking about? This is for the greater good!” Chie grinned, and Yu groaned, slamming his head back against the backrest of the car. So he had said the last part out loud, had he. “C’mon, Yu! You heard what Nijima said! We’re gonna take down The Metaverse Hotel tonight! She needed backup!”

“I don’t know if you remember, Chie, but we have a gag order on that hotel, and Nijima is just a university police liaison.” Yu deadpanned. “All of this screams bad news.”

Chie made a move to bite back a reply, and shook her head exasperatedly. “What if I told you that this was all super legit, and we have a legitimate officer supervising us?” She grinned sideways at Yu, and he blinked at her.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Check out my voicemail.” She jerked her head at her pocket. “Get my phone.”

You fumbled to get her phone out of her pocket and peered at the lock screen. “Password?”

“Yukiko’s birthday.” She replied, and Yu grinned at her, earning him an elbow to the side. He unlocked the phone, and accessed her voicemail.

“ _This is Senior Inspector Katsuya Suou. I give full authorisation to Cadets Chie Satonaka and Yu Narukami to use one patrol car unit of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police in the operation against the illegal establishment, The Metaverse Casino, in the Shinjuku Ward of Tokyo._ ”

“Holy… _shit._ ” Yu breathed, “Suou. The man himself. What the…”

“It all makes sense, right?” Chie pressed, “Sudou’s sudden transfer here. Why Suou-san didn’t go to the PD.”

“To be fair, that’s because you insisted on a beef bowl break and the leader of our squadron got super hungry when you started describing the Meat Dimension.” Yu snorted softly, but nodded. “We arrived at the station late, and let Suou-san go free.”

Chie beamed at him. “You know as well as I do that _someone_ has to do _something_ , and if it took a pair of country bumpkins from Inaba—”

“Then so be it.” Yu nodded. “Okay, Chie—I’m in. Step on it.”

“You got it, leader!” She laughed delightedly. “Just like the old times!”

* * *

“Another full house!” Haru smiled brightly. “Would you look at that. I won again.”

Shido glared at her as Futaba gathered her winnings and pushed them all towards her.

The game was wearing them all thin. The High Limit special for that evening came in bet increments so small, it slowed the game down so much with how many times the players had to raise their bets per round. On top of that, the special mix was equally tedious—Futaba would begin to tell them a story prior to starting a new round.

Each player would place a bet before the start of each round, and as Futaba told the story, any player was to state a main character’s name. A correct answer would allow them to stay in the game, and any incorrect guesses, or when the names ran out, would force the rest of the players to fold, immediately forfeiting the round.

And, of course, a well-read young lady like Haru could breeze through these no problem.

 _Especially_ when all the stories Futaba was telling were all of her choice.

“So, Milady de Winter, huh?” Sae smiled into the rim of her champagne flute. “I didn’t know that was her name.”

“Neither did I.” Madarame nodded. “A very wise girl you are, Noir.”

“Thank you very much.” Haru giggled, accepting her winnings. “Tonight’s game is very fun—isn’t it, Renard?” She turned to Katsuya, who bowed his head.

“You are wiping the floor all of them, as predicted.” He replied. It was the first time he spoke ever since he arrived at the table, and Shido’s expression tightened.

Finally, he realised.

“Makoto is ready.” Sae murmured to them, and Katsuya saw Haru’s hands ball into tight fists on her lap.

“One more round,” She said, and pushed forward all her winnings. “Tell us a story, Oracle.”

Futaba gaped at her, but quickly recovered. “R-right. Bets, ladies and gents?”

Kamoshida’s eyes boggled at Haru’s bet, but Madarame’s grin widened at her boldness.

“All-in.” He said, pushing forward all his winnings, too, and Kaneshiro snorted.

“Fine.” He also bet everything he had, and Kamoshida, sighing, did the same.

Sae, nodding, pushed forward all she had, and pointed gazes turned to Shido.

The man smirked back at Haru, and pushed forward everything. They all then looked at the last person to act, Okumura, who had been moving stiffly since the game began.

“The last round.” Haru smiled at him. “Will you turn the tables, Father?”

The man jolted, and the crowd around them burst into murmurs. He reeled in the shock from his expression and nodded, pushing forward everything he had.

“I will make you regret this, girl.”

“No,” Haru replied, steel in her voice. “It is _you_ who will end up regretting this.”

Futaba nodded, and shuffled the cards in her hand. “Once upon a time, a man with an incredibly beautiful—”

“Narcissus.” Kamoshida cut in, and Futaba grinned.

“Washout.”

“ _Fuck._ ” The man swore.

“Moving on.” Shido gestured for her to keep going. She nodded.

“Voice, and lyrical skill, was loved by the gods because of his ability to charm anything, including stone. He had a wife, but in trying to escape a satyr, she died thanks to falling into a pit of vipers, and getting bit. In his grief, the man travels to the Underworld to find her, and—”

“Eurydice.” Shido smirked, and Futaba nodded.

“Bing-bing-bing.”

“Orpheus.” Haru said, and she got up onto her feet. “Just like the name of the theatre _you_ stole from Akihiko and Hamuko Nijima.”

Shido smirked wider at her, but it quickly fell off his face when Haru took off her mask.

“My name is Haru Okumura.” She said, and her father got onto his feet in shock. “No, Father—don’t interrupt me. You’ve been interrupting me for far too long.”

She took a deep breath. “My mother loved The Orpheus Theater, and I did, too. As a little girl, I thought it was what heaven looked like, and now as a grown woman, I realise that The Metaverse had turned The Orpheus into Tartarus, the literal embodiment of hell.” She slammed her hands down on the table. “In this hell, many of my friends are trapped, and we all aim to escape it all, and hold every single one of you accountable. You, _Masayoshi Shido,_ and _you, Father,_ for funding the transformation of my mother’s second home after she told you not to, right on her deathbed.”

Shido got up, laughing lowly as he took his mask off. “You foolish, foolish girl.” He said, “Have you ever heard of what happened to Detective Inspector Robin Ganimard, right at the spot where you stand right now?”

Haru met his eyes determinedly. “Yes.” She replied, “His lover sends his regards.”

Shido raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. “Oh?”

“And so do the officers in the force he left behind.” Katsuya said, pulling off his own mask and taking out his service firearm to point at Shido. Panic flared in the casino, and the guests began to flee, but the man simply smirked back at Katsuya. Unnoticed by the rest of the table, Futaba hurried away, making a beeline for the reception.

“Katsuya Suou.” He said. “I had sent my useless son to try and kill you, and the police completely missed you. Well—nice to know the elder of the two is hardier than the other.”

Katsuya didn’t even flinch. “You’re under arrest.”

“I hold the police, you fool.” Shido snarled, and Sae shook her head.

“We do not expect the rule of law to judge you properly,” She said, taking her mask off. “The public will do it for us.”

* * *

“That’s the cue,” Mishima said, and Futaba nodded, tongue stuck out in concentration as she type furiously away on her laptop. “Sakura, hey—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” She replied, and pressed enter.

* * *

“Huh?” Almost bumping into the door of his tiny apartment, Hifune blinked at the sudden influx of activity on his Twitter timeline. “What’s…? Hey!”

A sudden influx of tweets from an account named Alibaba flooded his timeline, all containing picture after picture of illicit activities involving many a member of Tokyo’s high society, and at the very top of his feed was Masayoshi Shido himself, Akira as a prostitute in his arms.

“Holy shit.” He breathed. “ _Holy shit._ It’s _everywhere._ The evidence, it’s—”

A bewildered grin crossed his face.

“It’s over, Shido.”

* * *

Makoto flicked the lighter on right in front of the smoke detector, and the shrill cry of the alarm rang throughout the building. She flinched, and the sprinklers came on, showering her with water as she got down from the ladder she used to reach the detector. She pressed her fingers to her ear to hear the line properly, and over the roar of the water, she could hear Ryuji and Ann directing guests from the hotel to vacate it. She nodded to herself, heading towards the casino proper to see her sister directing casino guests towards the exit, her dress torn to let her run properly, barefoot. Her high heels were slung over her wrist, and when Makoto called for her, she turned to look at her.

“Makoto!” She barked, “Is the hotel getting evac?”

“Yeah, we’re on it.” She nodded, and Sae pulled her close when a group of men almost barrelled into her. “O-oh, thanks, Sis.”

Sae gave her a soft smile, patting her cheek, before turning serious again. “Where’s Satonaka?”

“Should be on her way.” Makoto nodded. “Hey, um—Morgana’s inside the building.”

Sae’s eyes widened. “We have to tell Suou-san.” She said, and Makoto squeezed her free wrist.

“And so is Sudou.” She hissed, and Sae’s eyes widened.

“Oh, god.” She breathed, “That means—”

* * *

Sudou’s head shot up at the sirens of the fire alarm, and he clicked his tongue, turning away from the ventilation shaft he was waiting at for Morgana to come out of.

“Damn, how did they know?” He muttered angrily, shaking his head. “Looks like I’ll have to set them off earlier.”

He looked at the transmitter he held in his hand, and smiled widely.

“This is for the Kurosus, Shido. Our deal is off.”

He pressed down on the button in the middle, and high above his head, the explosions began.

* * *

“Holy shit!” Chie gasped, and Yu’s head shot up from his phone to see The Metaverse Hotel—just beyond their horizon—explode. Their radio, which had been blaring with ‘ _turn around right now, cadets!_ ’ now exploded with activity, and the police was suddenly on the move to save the burning building instead of chasing after them.

Chie and Yu shared horrified looks. “Shit, Nijima was right.” Yu breathed, and Chie nodded. “Man, am I glad we got half the PD on the move already.” He picked up their radio—finally—and sent a message.

“This is Cadet Yu Narukami, requesting backup and fire department support for The Metaverse Hotel,” he barked, as Chie turned a sharp corner, coming to a stop in front of The Metaverse to see people starting to come out of the burning building. “An explosion just set the building on fire—”

More explosions shook The Metaverse, and Yu winced. “ _Multiple_ explosions. Burning hotel. You’re seeing this, right?”

“ _Hell yeah, we are. Looks like you two really were onto something._ ” The operator replied, “ _But don’t think you two are off the hook with stealing a patrol car. Unless you two were authorised by an actual officer—_ ”

“We were!” Chie cut in, “Katsuya Suou, ever heard of him?”

“ _What? You met him?_ ”

“Yes and no.” Yu replied, “Listen, we’ve got evidence for that, but for now—”

“ _All units, heads-up:_ ” The leader of the squadron on their tail right now barked, interrupting the operator, “ _Citizens have started calling for multiple arrests of many different individuals, and there’s a huge data leak going around the Internet and social media right now._ ” Yu and Chie blinked at each other, and the young man pulled out his phone to access his Twitter timeline. His eyes widened.

“Chie, someone’s released all the evidence and info about The Metaverse and The Orpheus.” He breathed, and Chie’s grin widened.

“Here’s where shit hits the fan.” She nodded, and bolted out of the car, hoisting with her the megaphone that came with their car. Yu jolted, and hurried out of the car after her, spotting her block guests exiting the building just in time for the rest of the squadron driving after them to block off the area.

“ _Listen up, everyone,_ ” she declared as the rest of the squadron arrived around them, blocking off the hotel from the rest of the ward. “ _No one’s getting out of the perimeter until they’ve been cleared. Please do not go beyond the police blockade._ ”

Another officer emerged from his patrol car with another megaphone. “ _Anyone involved with the use of The Metaverse Casino and other associated activities with Dietman Masayoshi Shido is placed under arrest per the directions of the Tokyo PD Chief, and the public’s overwhelming call for mass arrests._ ”

Chie grinned back at her best friend, and Yu smiled back.

“We made it.” She gave him a thumbs-up, and he laughed.

“That we did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 41 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
> “... So we missed the target, but we got this guy instead.” 
> 
> Akechi raised an eyebrow at the thug, and looked down at Arsene, bound and on the ground in front of him again. It took him back four years ago, when the thief was on the ground, cradling a dying man in his arms. 
> 
> “You were caught.” He said, and Arsene glared back up at him. 
> 
> “You sent us right back into a trap.”
> 
> “I only said I would let you go.” Akechi replied flatly, and dismissed all the thugs from the room, leaving the two of them alone inside the apartment’s living room. “There is no way you would make it to Akira and Yusuke through the front door.” 
> 
> “I figured.” Arsene replied icily, getting up and rubbing the feeling back into his wrists tenderly. Akechi hummed, and moved over to the balcony, where the sheet-rope still was. “Akechi—”
> 
> “Sena Hifune. Is he safe?” 
> 
> Arsene stopped, and Akechi refused to look at him. “He… he should be. I caught him as he fell earlier, and told him to leave when he could.”
> 
> “I see.” Akechi stepped out onto the balcony, and Arsene followed suit. “Lupin-san—”
> 
> “Whatever you have to say, I will not hear it—”
> 
> “This is my redemption, to you.” He said, gesturing at the rope, and Arsene looked at him, though Akechi did not meet his eye. “Robin Ganimard was a good detective. I…” Akechi took a shuddering breath. “I really looked up to him, you know.”


	41. sa rédemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (his redemption)
> 
> "I don’t deserve forgiveness.”
> 
> “An understatement.” Arsene replied tartly, and Akechi laughed bitterly. 
> 
> “I don’t blame you for feeling that way.” He said. “But… Akira. He never once thought that didn’t deserve forgiveness. That I didn’t deserve to be saved.”
> 
> Arsene deflated. “I had called him a fool for believing that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think you need to have read the robin/arsene spinoff to fully maximise the feels but whatever do what you want
> 
> as usual, next chapter preview in the end notes.

As the elevator doors shut in front of them, Akira grabbed Yusuke and kissed him, hard. Desperation, relief and love poured into the force of his kiss, and Yusuke kissed him back, pushing him back against the wall of the elevator as Akira wrapped his arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. Yusuke’s bokken clattered to the floor, but neither cared—they were finally back together again—that was all that mattered.

“Yusuke,” Akira breathed when the taller man pulled away, cupping his face in his hands. “You came back for me.”

“Yes.” Yusuke smiled down at Akira. “Forgive me, Akira, I—I didn’t know. About you and The Metaverse, about the will, The Orpheus—I had no idea.” He pulled Akira into a tight hug, sighing deeply. “Haru-san and the Phantom Thieves explained everything to me. Akira,” he pulled away to look into his eyes. “I will help you save us all. We _will_ find that will. I will stay by your side, no matter what. No more mistakes. No more masks, hidden identities—I am Yusuke, not Fox, and you are Akira, not Joker.”

Akira laughed fondly. “Yeah, makes sense.” He replied easily. “Thank you. So damn much. I—I’m so glad you’re here.”

“As am I.” Yusuke smiled. “When this is all over, I’ll take you to Morgana and your uncle. They miss you so much.”

“I miss them too.” Akira sighed, hugging him. “Let’s see this to the end, Yusuke.”

“To The Metaverse.” He agreed, and the elevator doors dinged open. The both of them hurried outside, and Yusuke led Akira to where Arsene had parked the Audi. Akira quickly unlocked the door, getting into the driver’s seat, and Yusuke hurried around to the other side to get into the other seat.

He tried not to stare at Akira’s long legs settling into position at the pedals, his high heels testing the brake pedal, but Akira noticed before he could hide it, grinning slightly in amusement as Yusuke tore his eyes away from him.

“I appreciate the staring, just so you know.” He said bemusedly, but much to Yusuke’s sheepish disappointment, he pulled off his high heels and handed them to Yusuke. “Hold these for me—it’s hard to drive with high heels on, no matter what Arsene says.”

Yusuke watched as Akira easily drove out of the parking space, and he sat back in his seat with an amazed smile on his face.

“I didn’t know you could drive.” He said, and Akira chuckled.

“One of many more things you probably don’t know about me.” He replied easily, and Yusuke laughed.

“I suppose.” He replied bemusedly, and Akira gave him a wink.

“Wanna know something else?” He cocked his head at Yusuke, and the artist nodded.

“Do tell me.”

“I don’t have a license to drive.” He grinned, and floored the accelerator.

* * *

Morgana jumped at the sound of an explosion high above his head, and when the building shook, fear gripped his body, paralysing him with his shock.

Something bad was happening. He could smell smoke.

The image of his home, set on fire, memories of his happy life with his family burning to ashes flashed through his mind, and Morgana collapsed in the shaft, wrapping his arms around himself as he wept in fear—in agony, as the pain came back. It was just like the night his fathers died, like the night he and Akira entered the hell that was The Metaverse.

“C’mon!” A man’s voice encouraged him, and Morgana jolted, looking ahead to see a hand reaching out to him from an open shaft, just a little ahead of him. “I know you’re scared, but be just a little bit braver!”

“You can do it!” The woman from earlier added, “You’re nearly there!”

“It’s safe over here.” The man continued, “Please, kid, you gotta make it—for _all_ of us. You’re our last hope!”

Morgana’s eyes widened. Hope.

“ _Listen, Morgana. Don't you ever forget—even in the most dire situations, you should never lose hope._ ” Katsuya’s voice in his head said, and it felt like a beacon in the darkness. “ _Always look for a way. Never stop hoping—don't lose sight of the best outcome you can get._ ”

The boy’s hands balled into fists. “You've never truly lost until you give up.” He muttered, and he pulled himself together as best as he could. “I—I gotta. For Akira. For Dad and Papa. Uncle Katsuya.”

“That’s it.” The woman said warmly. “C’mon. Take our hands.”

Another hand reached into the shaft, and Morgana took them both, letting them pull him into the light.

* * *

“Sis!” Makoto held onto Sae tightly as the casino shook violently. “Wh-where’s Haru?”

“Still with Suou-san.” The woman replied urgently, “Come on—we have to tell them about Morgana.”

The two sisters ran in the opposite direction of where the crowd was running, in time to see Katsuya drape himself protectively over Haru, while the rest of the High Limit players took cover. Only Shido managed to stay generally upright, and the moment Makoto met eyes with him, her blood boiled.

“Shido!” She snarled, and the man turned on his heel and ran for the staff corridors.

“Makoto, not now.” Sae snapped, and the brunette turned to look at Haru, who was wincing as Katsuya helped her onto her feet.

“Haru!” Makoto gasped, hurrying over to them, the water from the depleted extinguisher system splashing around her feet lit with pink neon, making it look like she ran in a sea of red.

“My… ankle hurts.” The girl said quietly, and Katsuya tutted, shaking his head. Makoto gingerly approached them, and with a fond smile, he let her support Haru in his place.

“She had a nasty fall during the first explosion.” He said to Makoto, and one by one, the High Limit players got onto their feet.

“I’m so done with this place,” Kamoshida snapped, throwing aside his mask before making a run for it, and Kaneshiro wordlessly followed him. Madarame had some difficulty getting up, and Katsuya took a long, exasperated breath and helped him the rest of the way.

“Haru,” Okumura got unsteadily up, making a move towards his daughter, but Makoto glared at him, blocking Haru away from her. “You—”

“You don’t reserve the right to play the loving father card now, you bastard.” She snarled. “In case you forgot, _Mr. Mammon_ , who was it that stayed with her for all the nights she cried out of loneliness?”

Haru looked up at Makoto in amazement, cheeks pink.

“Not you. _Me._ Because who was it that made her cry?” Makoto bit. “ _You._ ”

“Mako-chan…” Haru breathed.

“And this was while I was finding a way to avenge my friends, my parents—” Makoto took a deep breath. “You don’t care. Not in the way a true father did.”

Much to Haru’s surprise, Makoto picked her up easily in a bridal carry, and the heiress let out a squeak of alarm as she held onto Makoto tighter. “I’ll take her to safety. You can take the old man out of here.” She jerked her head at Madarame, and Okumura hung his head. “Get out _right now_ , before the rest of the casino blows up.”

“I understand.” Okumura replied, and took Madarame with him. Katsuya straightened up and approached them.

“What’s the situation?” He asked urgently.

“Sudou set off the charges.” Sae explained, and Katsuya’s expression tightened. “Looks like we were right about him wanting to blow up The Metaverse.”

“It couldn’t have been Shido ordering him to, though.” Haru said, “Even he looked surprised when the explosions rang.”

“Yeah.” Makoto nodded, “And another thing—we’re sorry, Suou-san, but for some reason, Morgana is in The Metaverse too.”

“ _What?_ ” Katsuya gasped, “No, how did he—”

“We don’t know,” Sae said, “But we have to find him.”

“And what about the will?” Haru asked, “If we don’t find the will, what do we do?”

Sae’s expression tightened. “I… don’t know. For now, you two, get out of here.”

“But Sis—”

“Makoto, when the girl you like has a sprained ankle and you’re in a burning building, the first thing you do is get her out of there.” Sae interrupted her, and both brunettes let out twin gasps of alarm. The woman grinned widely. “Oh, off with it. Dad always said you would be the one with more game.”

Makoto blushed deeply. “D-don’t listen to her, Haru, s-she’s just being dumb.”

“Well, um…” Haru said gingerly, “I don’t want it to be dumb.”

Makoto gaped at her, and Katsuya nodded.

“Alright, you two, outside. Miss Nijima and I will try to locate my nephew and evacuate any more people trapped in here.” He declared, and Makoto nodded.

“The last time we saw Morgana, he was in the north staff corridors, near the dressing rooms.” She said, “But be careful—Sudou’s there too.”

“Oh, I’d prefer that he was there.” Katsuya said darkly, “I have a few bones to pick with the man who killed my brother.”

Makoto nodded firmly. “Good luck, Suou-san.” She looked at her sister. “Sis.”

“Take care, Makoto.” Sae replied, and the brunette turned, hurrying away with Haru in her arms. Katsuya met Sae’s eye, and the woman nodded at him.

“Let’s go.” He declared, and the two of them took off towards the staff corridors.

* * *

“... So we missed the target, but we got this guy instead.”

Akechi raised an eyebrow at the thug, and looked down at Arsene, bound by his wrists behind his back and on the ground in front of him again. It took him back four years ago, when the thief was on the ground, cradling a dying man in his arms.

“You were caught.” He said, and Arsene glared back up at him.

“You sent us right back into a trap.”

“I only said I would let you go.” Akechi replied flatly, and dismissed all the thugs from the room, leaving the two of them alone inside the apartment’s living room. “There is no way you would make it to Akira and Yusuke through the front door.”

“I figured.” Arsene replied icily, getting up and rubbing the feeling back into his wrists tenderly. Behind him, the handcuffs that held his wrists together dropped to the ground, lock picked. Akechi hummed, and moved over to the balcony, where the sheet-rope still was. “Akechi—”

“Sena Hifune. Is he safe?”

Arsene stopped, and Akechi refused to look at him. “He… he should be. I caught him as he fell earlier, and told him to leave when he could.”

“I see.” Akechi stepped out onto the balcony, and Arsene followed suit. “Lupin-san—”

“Whatever you have to say, I will not hear it—”

“This is my redemption, to you.” He said, gesturing at the rope, and Arsene looked at him, though Akechi did not meet his eye. “Robin Ganimard was a good detective. I…” Akechi took a shuddering breath. “I really looked up to him, you know.”

Winter was settling in quickly, and their breaths came out as puffs of fog in front of their mouths.

“When I was younger, Shido took me from my mom after she committed suicide. He verbally and emotionally abused me every day, and when my bones would stop breaking so easily, he moved on to physical abuse.” Akechi said, like they were discussing the weather. “He told me I was worthless, that the only way I could even deserve to live was if I did everything he told me to.”

“And you did.”

“ _And I did._ ” Akechi took a shaky breath, and his shoulders began to tremble. “I slept with people, I swindled them of their money, I _killed_ people. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“An understatement.” Arsene replied tartly, and Akechi laughed bitterly.

“I don’t blame you for feeling that way.” He said. “But… Akira. He never once thought that didn’t deserve forgiveness. That I didn’t deserve to be saved.”

Arsene deflated. “I had called him a fool for believing that.”

“I did, too.” Akechi laughed sadly. “At the time, I thought Akira was simply saying that to manipulate me, the same way I had been manipulating him into some childish semblance of a loving relationship. I tried protecting him. I did all I could to cover for him, to help him in whatever scheme he was planning, if only it meant he would like me back.”

Arsene stood back in sheepish, ashamed silence.

“I was like that too.”

He loathed to admit how alike he and Akechi were—how, for some reason, there was a bit of both Arsene and Robin in him, though the boy hadn’t quite realised himself.

Arsene had pulled heists in every single place Robin had ever wanted to see, organised little mischievous operations that dealt with crooks in the way that would both elevate Robin’s career, and his opinion of Arsene.

Really, he hadn’t the right to call Akechi a cheat—he was one himself, too.

Akechi laughed derisively. “Who’d’ve thought.” The brunet shook his head. “Tonight proved it—Akira would always be the better person between us. I saw it coming a mile away, when it was clear he would love Kitagawa more than me, but I just—” He shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I made up my mind some time ago—I would help Akira set himself free, at the cost of everything. I had nothing left to lose.”

Nothing left to lose, he said.

Arsene was the same.

“Tell me, Lupin-san, is doing things simply for the sake of someone you like such a bad motivation?”

Arsene thought back to the times he traipsed all over the world as different faces, different names and professions. Dresses, suits, rags, riches—throwing the entire world into a tizzy, a wild goose chase all for the sake of love, and not the justice that had been instilled into him when his father trained him to be a righteous phantom thief.

In the end, though, after everything—

“No, I do think, to some extent, your intentions were valid.”

Akechi huffed.

“You know, that Sena person… he said, at the very least, I was a victim of all this too. I want to believe it, somehow. Even after all this time.”

Arsene finally looked at him properly, and watched the beads of tears, delicate frost in swirling ferns forming on the streaks of water they left behind on his cheeks. Akechi sniffed, and settled down on a seat.

“When I was a kid, I looked up to heroes. Like the Featherman show I saw on TV.” He continued, “Later on, when Shido made me a PR puppet for the police, I grew to actually _like_ doing detective work. I started really taking detective work seriously, to the point I began looking for idols.”

Arsene sighed deeply, and sat down next to him, setting a warm hand on the younger man’s back. Akechi flinched, but relaxed after he realised Arsene hadn’t hurt him.

“Detective Ganimard was amazing.” He said quietly. “He managed to chase you all around the world—he was the only person who could do that.” He wrapped his arms around himself and sighed. “ _I_ wanted to be that special. I wanted something only I could do.”

“So you looked up to him.” Arsene frowned.

“The night Shido asked me to kill him, I was thankful you threw that dagger at me.” He continued sheepishly. “I actually wished you hit the mark, I didn’t mind dying.”

Arsene shook his head, and much to Akechi’s shock, pulled the boy close to himself.

“Then you would not have been able to help Akira.” He said, “I… I am so sorry. For all my anger towards you.”

“No, I deserve it—I killed Detective Ganimard anyway.” Akechi’s voice shook, but Arsene shook his head.

“You had no choice, much like Akira had none when he became Crown Jewel.” He said. “I know you accuse me of being the reason he is Crown Jewel, but I was merely the instrument.” Akechi looked up at him, and Arsene gave him a wry smile. “He was the conductor, and I played for him the song he needed to become the Crown Jewel.” He continued. “He became that to save everyone—” he poked Akechi’s nose, “Including you.”

Akechi’s eyes welled with tears. “Lupin-san, please tell him I’m sorry.”

“I think he already knows.” Arsene pressed a kiss to Akechi’s forehead, and pulled away from him. “Well, I must go.” He said, “Akira and Haru made a promise to me, and I intend to see it to its fruition.”

Akechi cocked his head at him, and Arsene gave him a sardonic smile. “They said they would let me watch the casino burn.” He said, “And I want to see it happen. You could come with me, if you wish.”

Akechi looked at the light novel he still held in his hands. “I… don’t think I can.” He said, and he met Arsene’s eye. “Just tell them… I didn’t make it.”

“What—” The thief began, but Akechi shook his head.

“Regardless of whether or not they prove that I’m a victim as well, it doesn’t change the fact I’ve killed people. I’ve committed so many crimes for the sake of pleasing my father.” Akechi’s hands balled into fists. “I will be judged. If not by society, then most definitely by the law.”

“So you would rather live a dead man.” Arsene replied sadly, and Akechi gave him a tired smile.

“That’s the plan.” He said.

Arsene sighed deeply, and turned away from him. “I understand. However, Goro,”

Akechi’s eyes widened, and Arsene grinned at him over his shoulder.

“My doors are always open for you. When you need me, you will find me.”

Tears welled up in the young man’s eyes, and he shut them, taking a shuddering breath.

“Thank you.” He murmured, and when he opened his eyes again, the man was gone, and a calling card for one Viscount Arsene Lupin the Fourth was slipped between the pages of Hifune’s light novel. He picked it up, peering at the contact information on it, and laughed softly.

Rancher, beekeeper, winemaker.

Phantom Thief.

Akechi shook his head fondly, and saved Arsene’s details on his phone. There was something else he had to do—his eyes in The Metaverse had yet to die, and Akira still needed his help.

* * *

Morgana entered the light, and found himself hoisted up onto his feet by a pair of strong, warm hands. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud—Tatsuya and Jun used to do this to him as a child, lifting him up by his hands, and letting him kick up into the air. He’d missed this.

The two hands set him back down onto the ground, and Morgana’s eyes widened when he realised he had been pulled into a beautiful, golden hall—it glittered with iridescent crystalline chandeliers, and the marble floor shone with a brilliance that seemed to reflect the fresco on the ceiling, beautiful, sprawling literary classic scenery like the visage of heaven.

Morgana looked up at it all, eyes wide with wonder. He took it all in, and thought: _this must be what heaven looks like._

“There we go.” The woman smiled down at him, and he looked up to see a brunette with the shape of Sae’s jaw, and Makoto’s eyes. She had her hair up in a ponytail, and she wore a pretty red dress that reminded Morgana of antique photographs that showed idyll nostalgic imagery. “Hello there.” She chuckled, “Didn’t we say it was safe here?”

Morgana nodded wordlessly. Somehow, all evidence of The Metaverse breaking down—the shaking, the explosions, the _fire_ —all of it was gone. Instead, this beautiful gilded hall replaced it, as if Morgana had entered a completely new world.

“You look amazed.” The man from earlier said, and Morgana looked up to his left to see a man with Sae’s grey hair, and the shape of Makoto’s jaw framed his face. “Your first time here, kid?”

“Y-yeah…” Morgana nodded, and the woman chuckled fondly.

“Yeah, I’d imagine. I think you’re a little too young to have seen this place.” She nodded, and tugged on Morgana’s hand gently. “So, are you lost? Was there something you needed to look for?”

“Oh…” Morgana deflated, and pursed his lips. He knew better than to talk about plans to any old stranger—and the plan to find that other will was the most important thing he’d ever done in his life. The man beside him laughed softly, shaking his head fondly.

“Your parents are good people to teach you not to talk to just some strangers.” He said, and he knelt down next to Morgana to show him a police badge. It was old, and singed at the sides slightly, but Morgana recognised it easily.

“Oh! Police!” He breathed.

His father had a similar badge too, after all.

He deflated at the thought, and the woman stroked his hair reassuringly. “L-like… my dad…”

“Really? That’s neat.” The man smiled. “So, you looking for something? We can help you.”

Morgana looked at the young couple, and he nervously shifted on his feet. “I’m… I’m looking for The Orpheus’s Holy Grail.” He said meekly, feeling silly for asking something that ridiculous-sounding. “I know that I’m supposed to find it in the old dressing rooms, they’re the oldest part of The Metaverse, a-and they’re not… different.” He took a deep breath. “I-it has something really important inside to help my big brother, so I wanted to find it…”

“Okay, then!” The woman nodded. “We know where that is, right, darling?”

“Yeah, we do.” The man replied. “Come along with us, kid—we’ll show you the way.”

Morgana nodded, and the three of them began to walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 42 preview.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Come on, this way.” She tapped the vanity she sat at, and moved onwards ahead of them. The couple smiled down at Morgana and tugged at his hands gently for him to follow them, and confusedly, Morgana did so, until they came at a vanity that was offset from the others, distinctly different with the more ornate designs, the fairy lights strung around its frame, and the white paint of the wood. It looked so immaculate, it almost seemed like it was made of ivory, and Morgana’s eyes widened when he saw a picture on the table.
> 
> He knew whose vanity this was—there was only one person who kept that particular picture of Tatsuya Suou on his table.
> 
> “That’s my dad!” He gasped, almost letting go of the couple’s hands, but much to his surprise, they held on fast. 
> 
> “Don’t let go, baby.” The woman said softly, “Or else you’ll lose sight of it.”
> 
> “H-huh?” Morgana cocked his head, “B-but, th-that’s—”
> 
> “Here it is.” The bespectacled woman grandly gestured at a golden box on Jun’s vanity, placed right in the middle like a jewelry box on display. Morgana’s eyes widened at it, and the bespectacled woman picked it up and knelt down in front of Morgana, holding it in her lap. “Okay, darling, listen to us, okay?”
> 
> Morgana nodded, though he was still confused. 
> 
> “Please make it out of here with this box intact. You can open it, that’s fine, but please—for the sake of all the people who put their treasures in this, bring all of it out with you when you go.” She said.
> 
> All of a sudden, an inexplicable sadness filled Morgana’s heart. He didn’t know why, but his eyes welled with tears, and some began rolling down his cheeks in fat drops.


	42. restes du passé

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (remains of the past)
> 
> This was the will he was looking for.
> 
> The will that could save Akira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i've had enough of this garbage fic so here's the rest of it bye

Despite the roar of the flame, his phone ringing caught his attention and he quickly answered it.

“Suou.”

“ _Suou-san!_ ” Ohya’s panicked voice yelled from the phone, “ _The hotel is exploding?_ ”

“A little too late for that information.” Katsuya growled, watching as Sae ushered trapped employees out from where they were hiding in a broom closet. “How the hell did you two lose Morgana?”

Ohya audibly hissed. “ _We’re sorry. We just—we got a call from Maya-chan._ ” Katsuya raised an eyebrow. “ _Apparently the rumours were true—Hamuko Nijima made a second will, and her brother believes that it’s in this hidden box called the Holy Grail. Know anything about that? We think he went in to go look for it._ ”

“The… Holy Grail.” Katsuya breathed. “I think… I think I know where that is. Jun, he mentioned something like th—”

Movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention, and he whirled around to see a figure moving around in the shadows of the casino’s backdoor machinery. He narrowed his eyes at it.

He knew who this was.

“ _Suou-san? H-hey, what’s going o—_ ” Katsuya hung up, just as Sae approached him.

“Suou-san,” Sae began, putting her hand on his shoulder, but he shook his head.

“Keep going, Miss Nijima. Surely there are others still here, and when it gets too much, you leave.”

Sae frowned at him. “What about you?”

“I have a criminal to chase.” Katsuya took his gun’s safety off, expression set. “Go. Look for Morgana if you can—I will do my best as well.”

Sae’s brow furrowed deeper, but she nodded, hurrying off onwards through the burning casino.

Sudou stepped out of the dark, smirking at him.

“Suou.”

“Sudou.”

The man’s mouth lifted in a jagged smirk. “I had fun killing your brother. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Why did you blow up The Metaverse?” Katsuya demanded, pointing his gun at the man. “You know this is just the opposite of what Shido wants—”

“ _Exactly_ , Suou.” Sudou grinned. “I _wanted_ to fuck Shido up—as revenge.”

“Revenge.” Katsuya’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah, revenge.” There was a wild look in the man’s eyes. “For the Kurosus. If he hadn’t gone after my Junko or Jun, he wouldn’t have made him kill Jun when he made me get them.” Sudou inched forward, and Katsuya held his ground. “Don’t you see? I was their biggest fan— _I_ was the only one who deserved them!”

Another explosion shook the hotel above them, and Katsuya forced himself not to look up, swallowing down his slowly-rising panic.

Instead, he let rage bubble inside him.

“You _killed_ them.” He snarled. “My brother, his husband—you killed them just for _that?_ ”

“I couldn’t have them!” Sudou sounded wild, unhinged, and it made Katsuya’s skin crawl. “Then no one else could!”

Katsuya fired at the space right next to Sudou’s ear, fire in his eyes. “Only the need to have you brought to justice is keeping me from shooting you right in the middle of your forehead.”

Sudou’s grin widened. “What about Morgana then?”

Katsuya flinched.

“You know he’s in here. You know this place is burning down to the ground.” He sneered. “Who’s it gonna be, Suou? Me, or your little brat nephew?”

Katsuya hesitated, and that was all Sudou needed to bolt away. The brunet swore under his breath, and hurried after him.

* * *

Akira was beautiful, in the dim light of the street lamps that flashed by them as they drove down the freeway, heading straight for The Metaverse. Yusuke watched him contentedly, holding onto Akira’s high heels while he drove, and when Akira noticed, he smiled slightly.

“See something you like?” He asked bemusedly, and Yusuke chuckled.

“I see someone I love.” He replied, and Akira let out a loud laugh.

“Oh, man. I didn’t think you’d take that _that_ seriously.” He sighed fondly, “What am I supposed to do with that?”

Yusuke’s smile widened. It felt so good to finally be on the same page as Akira, having told the entire story from his side, and hearing Akira’s from start to finish. It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know from what Haru and the others told him, but hearing it from Akira himself tugged on his heartstrings a little bit harder. He wanted to hold Akira close to himself, protect him from the world—

But right now, speeding down the highway towards The Metaverse with Akira behind the wheel, he knew Akira didn’t need saving.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t need helping.

He slid his hand over Akira’s on the gear shifter, and the black-haired man sighed fondly. Their happiness was short-lived, however, when The Metaverse came into view, on fire, with several police squadrons blocking the place off from a steadily-growing crowd of onlookers and media. Akira parked the car to the side of a police vehicle with a pair of young cadets worriedly looking at the building, and when he and Yusuke got out of the car, he saw Makoto hurrying out of The Metaverse, Haru in her arms.

“Makoto!” Akira called, pushing through the crowd, Yusuke right behind him, and the brunette lit up.

“Oh, my god! Akira! You’re safe!”

“Akira-kun!” Haru smiled widely, and Akira pulled them both into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe, but—”

“When I said I’d let Arsene see the casino burn, I didn’t mean have it burn before I got here.” Akira grinned at them as he pulled away. “Haru, I can’t believe you’re involved in this, too.” He sighed, shaking his head, and Haru gave him a sheepish smile.

“You know I couldn’t just let this go.” She squeezed his hand, “But let’s save that for later.”

“Right.” Akira nodded, all business, and Yusuke could see why the team had elected him as their leader. Stern, adaptive and quick to move—Akira was so strong, even in the face of so much adversity.

What a wildcard, Yusuke thought fondly. Akira was incredibly admirable, truly.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He said, and Makoto nodded.

“When we got to The Metaverse, there were more than the usual amount of people in there. Someone had apparently sent out the word that an auction for an evening with you was going to be held, so lots of people showed up.” She said, “It turns out it’s a trap set out by that arsonist Sudou.”

Akira flinched, and Yusuke was quick to hold his hand and squeeze it. Akira looked up at him, and Yusuke gave him a supportive smile.

When Akira turned to look back at Makoto, the brunette was smiling fondly.

“R-right.” Akira blushed, and he shook his head to clear it. “The will, it’s not in the apartment.” He said, “It’s in the Manager’s Suite. I have to get in there.”

Makoto nodded. “Shido went there too, so please, be careful.” Haru squeezed Akira’s other hand.

“You have to get him out, too. He _must_ be tried for his crimes.” She said, and looked at Yusuke. “Ah, Yusuke-kun. I’m glad you made it.” Yusuke gave her a nod, and she looked around confusedly. “Where’s monsieur Lupin?”

Akira and Yusuke deflated. “He…” Akira began, and Yusuke shook his head, squeezing his hand.

“He’ll be right after us.” He said confidently, and Akira looked up at him with wonder. Yusuke gave him a supportive smile. “Do not lose faith in him now, Akira. He will make it out of there.”

“Right.” Akira nodded determinedly.

“My Sis and Suou-san are still inside, tracking down Sudou as well.” Makoto explained, and Akira’s expression fell. “And… I’m sorry, but somehow Morgana’s in there too. I’d like to think they’ll be able to find him, but…”

“I have faith in Uncle Katsuya.” Akira said, “Sae-san, too. We have to get that will.”

“Okay.” Makoto nodded firmly. “Iwai-san, Futaba-chan and Mishima are out of the building, Ann and Ryuji are finishing up evac, but I don’t know if they’re still inside. I think they’re currently helping the police sort out the guests and staff.”

“Good.” Akira replied.

“Yusuke,” Makoto said, and the young man jumped slightly. “Your teacher is doing okay. He’s currently in an ambulance getting first aid for smoke inhalation, but other than that, he’s fine.”

Yusuke blinked at her in alarm for a moment, before smiling slowly. “Thank you.”

Akira gave her a thankful smile, before turning to Yusuke. “C’mon. Let’s finish this.”

He held his hand out for Yusuke to take, and the artist nodded.

He took Akira’s hand, and had no intention of letting it go.

“Back into The Metaverse, one last time.”

* * *

Morgana and the young couple made it to a smallish door with a star on it, and when they opened it, a woman with short hair in a bob cut looked up from the script she was reading. She pushed up her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, and cocked her head at them.

“And who’s this?” She asked, getting up from her seat to bend down and look at Morgana. “Oh, you’re a handsome child, you are.” She nodded. “You’d make a good break as an actor.”

Morgana blushed slightly. “I-I, um, I wanna be a police officer, actually.” He said meekly, and the man laughed, as the bespectacled woman pouted.

“Good on you, kid!” He nodded, “We could always use good kids like you in the force.” He gave Morgana a wink, and the boy giggled. The bespectacled woman harrumphed, crossing her arms petulantly, and the brunette holding Morgana’s hand giggled.

“How about your big brother?” She asked, and Morgana paused.

“Oh, um…” He looked down at his feet. “Yeah, I think Akira would like to go into theater.” He said, and the bespectacled woman nodded.

“Good. It seems Jun’s legacy lives on.” She said, and Morgana jumped.

“You know my Papa!” He gasped, and she gave him a knowing grin.

“Now, what’s this about a Holy Grail?” She asked suddenly, not answering Morgana properly, and the young couple nodded while the boy gaped at her. They hadn’t said a word about the Holy Grail. How could she have known?

“He’s looking for it. It’s somewhere here, right?” The brunette asked, and the other woman nodded.

“Come on, this way.” She tapped the vanity she sat at, and moved onwards ahead of them. The couple smiled down at Morgana and tugged at his hands gently for him to follow them, and confusedly, Morgana did so, until they came at a vanity that was offset from the others. It was distinctly different with more ornate designs, the fairy lights strung around its frame, and the white paint of the wood. It looked so immaculate, it almost seemed like it was made of ivory, and Morgana’s eyes widened when he saw a picture on the table.

He knew whose vanity this was—there was only one person who kept that particular picture of Tatsuya Suou on his table.

“That’s my dad!” He gasped, almost letting go of the couple’s hands, but much to his surprise, they held on fast.

“Don’t let go, baby.” The woman said softly, “Or else you’ll lose sight of it.”

“H-huh?” Morgana cocked his head, “B-but, th-that’s—”

“Here it is.” The bespectacled woman grandly gestured at a golden box on Jun’s vanity, placed right in the middle like a jewelry box on display. Morgana’s eyes widened at it—that hadn’t been there when they arrived. The bespectacled woman picked it up and knelt down in front of Morgana, holding it in her lap. “Okay, darling, listen to us, okay?”

Morgana nodded, though he was still confused.

“Please make it out of here with this box intact. You can open it, that’s fine, but please—for the sake of all the people who put their treasures in this, bring all of it out with you when you go.” She said.

All of a sudden, an inexplicable sadness filled Morgana’s heart. He didn’t know why, but his eyes welled with tears, and some began rolling down his cheeks in fat drops.

“The Holy Grail of The Orpheus was our treasure.” The woman said, “Many people tried looking for it, even after The Orpheus had transformed.”

“But it’s not the kind of treasure people expected. Because of that, I’m glad we hid it away so well.” The man continued. “I wanted my daughters to find it, but now it’s too late.”

“It’s fine for you to find it.” The bespectacled woman said, “You, after all, are still a child of The Orpheus, even if you never lived to see it.” She kissed Morgana’s forehead, and held the box out for him to take. “You’re our only hope. You’re the only one who could have found this. Do you understand?”

“I-I don’t,” Morgana choked, and his tears flowed even more, as if the sadness of those three people flowed into him, and he didn’t know why. There was a pain in his chest he couldn’t describe, and words failed him. “I-I don’t understand…”

“It’s okay.” The woman hushed him gently, stroking his hair with her free hand. “The moment you let go of us, you’ll lose sight of us. When that happens, I want you to hold onto the box as tightly as you can, alright?”

“I-I—”

“I know you can do it.” The man encouraged him, a smile in his voice. “You’re gonna grow up to be the best cop in the world.”

Morgana nodded, “I-I’m gonna—I’m gonna save everyone.”

“That’s the spirit.” They all said, their voices now bleeding together, and Morgana could hear the beginnings of the raging fire’s crescendo. “Take the box.”

Morgana let go of the couple’s hands, and took the box from the woman’s lap, screwing his eyes shut. He felt the world around him shift, like a gust of wind turning into a hot afternoon zephyr, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a decrepit room, ruined furniture around him. The room was dark, almost pitch-black, and gone was the glittering gold of the world he was once in. He turned—and realised he was on his knees. He looked behind him to realise he’d been crawling through a tunnel that whole time, and on his lap was the golden box the bespectacled woman was holding, covered with a fine layer of dust, and four pairs of handprints.

The smallest pair was his, definitely, but Morgana didn’t know where the other three came from.

The room looked abandoned, and mostly destroyed, with very little of the furniture that had been in there still vaguely intact. The vanity he knelt in front of was faded white, and had toppled over due to age and disuse. On what used to be the table was a shattered frame, and Morgana gingerly picked it up, turning it over to find it blank.

He found himself laughing softly. Of course there would be nothing on it.

He put it back gingerly, and shook the box in his lap instead. It rattled softly, and when he opened it, he found small items of varying types and sizes. One thing that caught his eye was a film canister that had a faded label on it. He picked it up, and gave it another gentle shake.

Something rattled inside.

He opened it, and shook its contents out onto his palm to see it was a pair of rings, a name engraved on the inside of them. His eyes widened, filling with tears again—

 _Jun Kurosu_ , said one ring, _Tatsuya Suou_ , said the other.

“Dad… Papa…” Morgana’s voice shook, as he held the rings close to his chest. “These… these were your engagement rings…”

Somewhere above his head, he heard something explode, and the building around him shook. Morgana squeaked, and hurriedly put the rings back inside the canister and into the box. He made a move to shut it, when he realised there was a small envelope tucked into the side, pressed right against the old, crinkling velvet of the walls.

He pulled it out and opened it to see two photographs, and a folded piece of paper. He inspected the photos with narrowed eyes—

And much to his shock, the first one had the young couple on it, smiling together happily, hand-in-hand in front of a newly-built Orpheus Theatre. On the back, it read, _Akihiko & Hamuko Nijima_, and the date was smudged with a handprint.

Morgana’s eyes widened.

He looked at the other photograph and found the bespectacled woman carrying a baby, and behind that read _Wakaba & Futaba Isshiki_.

Futaba.

“That was… her mom.” He breathed. “Then this…”

He unfurled the paper hurriedly, breathing hard and trying to ignore the casino and hotel falling apart above his head, and read it as best as he could.

_LAST WILL AND——_

_I, Hamuko Nijima, being of full age and sound mind and memory, do make, publish and declare this to be my Last Will and_ —

The rest of the will was lost to Morgana—it used too many difficult words for a boy at 12 years of age, but he understood it well enough.

This was the will he was looking for.

The will that could save Akira.

He lit up, and stuffed it carefully back into the envelope, and then the box. He made a promise to the three of them—Futaba’s mother, Sae and Makoto’s parents—that he would bring the whole thing out with him, and he wasn’t going to fail them now. Carefully, he held the box close to himself, and crawled back the way he unknowingly came, coughing as the smoke began to gather in the tunnel he crawled through. As he neared the light at the end of it, he jumped when he heard a loud _crash_ behind him.

He looked back over his shoulder at where he came from, and saw the whole room collapse, as if finally letting go of a burden it was carrying the moment Morgana left it.

He could barely see three figures waving at him from inside it, unmindful of the falling debris, and he smiled back at them.

“I’ll get this out safely,” he said, turning back to head back into the light. “I promised.”

He stumbled back out into the staff corridors, and he hurriedly got onto his feet to look at where he came from. His eyes widened when he realised that the tunnel had been behind a Madarame painting they had been keeping in there—the portrait of a woman looking down at mist with a mysterious expression on her face. _Sayuri_ , the staff called her, and Morgana didn’t know who she was, but he had always felt some strange sadness coming from the portrait. She was currently set down on the floor, still standing up, right next to the tunnel, which had completely collapsed in the moment Morgana had cleared it.

It was tiny—there was no way any adult could have fit in there.

Finally, he realised what Akihiko Nijima meant when he said it was too late for his daughters to find the Holy Grail.

Well, no matter—he had a will to deliver.

Morgana made a move to turn around, when suddenly a hand grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, and he was turned violently to come face-to-face with a furious Tatsuya Sudou.

His hand shot up to Morgana’s mouth to cut off his scream, and the man strode onwards, taking the boy with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see how quality suddenly plummeted lmao sorry for the disappointment


	43. en cendres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (in ashes)
> 
> “I am better than revenge. I will find that on my own accord, and I do not need to usurp another’s property to find my own strength.”
> 
> Yusuke’s gaze sharpened into a glare.
> 
> “I will take that so-called glory from you, not as your heir, but as the man who will take everything from you.”

“Is that the last of ‘em?” Ryuji yelled over the roar of the flames, and Ann nodded, squeaking slightly when another tank exploded some distance away from them. The young man hissed, and he held his hands out at her. “C’mon, let’s go, let’s go!”

“R-right!” She nodded, and leapt at him, and he easily caught her. Hand in hand, the two of them ran through the flames, but as they neared the main exit of the casino, a support beam fell down in front of them. Ann let out a scream of alarm, and Ryuji held her steady, and pulled up the extinguisher he carried around with him.

“Hold on, I got this!” He declared, and set it off at the base of the flames. They died down for a moment, but the light switch next to the doorway exploded, and the fire began anew.

“Ryuji, we’re not gonna—” Ann began, but he shook his head, gritting his teeth hard.

“No, we’re gonna make it. We’re so close, I’m not gonna let some shitty fire ruin everything.” He growled, and tried again. The extinguisher gave a pathetic-sounding _poot_ , and the two blonds looked at each other nervously.

“Ryuji…” Ann breathed, and Ryuji shook his head, taking her hand.

“C’mon, we’re gonna get out of here, I swear.” He threw aside the fire extinguisher and pulled her along, back into the staff corridors. Ann bit her lip nervously, shaking her head as they went deeper into the corridors.

“Ryuji, that was our only way out.” She said shakily. “I—we’re—”

She felt a tap on her shoulder, and she jolted, turning around to see that a painting had fallen over, drawing her attention to a one-way view window that led into the casino proper. Her eyes widened, and she tugged on Ryuji’s hand. “Ryuji! Look!”

He turned and saw what she meant, and he lit up. “Thank _fuck_.” He breathed, and he kissed Ann’s hand. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

She nodded, and they carefully made their way to the window. “Do you still have the fire extinguisher?” She asked, and Ryuji shook his head, expression tightening.

“Shit, no—let’s find something to smash the window open with.”

Ryuji muttered to himself, looking around for something— _anything_ , to break the glass with, but Ann’s eyes widened when she realised what the painting was of.

A moon, quiet and soft, and a red silk slip of cloth hanging from the edge, and tears prickled the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you, Shiho.” She murmured, and she took the painting down, much to Ryuji’s surprise.

“Uh, Ann?” He began, but he let out a shocked shout when Ann flung the portrait into the glass. It shattered easily, much to their surprise, and the cut was clean—no jagged shards of glass peered out from the frame. “Whoa, _shit._ ” He breathed. “C’mon, let’s get out of here!” He helped Ann through the frame first, and then jumped over it himself, grinning at her as they joined hands again.

“That was effin’ lucky, wasn’t it?” He laughed breathlessly, and Ann laughed, nodding as the two of them continued running out of the hotel.

“Yeah,” she breathed, looking over her shoulder to see a figure in the flames, seemingly waving them goodbye. She felt warmth flooding her chest, the bittersweet swell of a final goodbye, and she shut her eyes, feeling tears roll down her cheeks as the cool early winter wind began trickling in past the flames that surrounded their exit route.

_“I love you, Ann.”_

She could hear her voice, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

“Thank you, Shiho.” She murmured, and the flames were gone as they breached the exit. “I love you too.”

There was a soft cool touch at her cheek, a phantom kiss, and the presence was gone.

* * *

“Akira!”

Akira and Yusuke came to a stop to see Sae hurrying out from a burning room, panting heavily.

“Sae-san!” Akira gasped, “You gotta get out of here, quickly. It’s too dangerous!”

“Suou-san, and Morgana,” She coughed, and Yusuke helped her steady herself.

“We’ll take it from here.” Yusuke said reassuringly. “We will find Katsuya-san and Morgana. We know where the will is, as well.”

Sae looked at the two of them worriedly, but she eventually nodded. She patted their shoulders heavily. “Good luck.”

They gave her determined nods and ran on.

“Which way is the Manager’s Suite?” Yusuke asked, “I don’t think I’ve been there before.”

“No, you haven’t.” Akira shook his head, trying to bust open a door that wasn’t on fire, and Yusuke held his shoulder, pulling him away gently. “Yusuke?”

“Allow me.” He said, and rammed his shoulder into the door. It swung open, and he gave Akira a small smile.

“I’d been meaning to ask,” Akira grinned, and the both of them ducked in through the door. “How are you so strong?”

“Easels don’t carry themselves.” Yusuke replied simply, and Akira laughed.

“Of course.” He took Yusuke’s hand and led him onwards. “C’mon, this way.”

The two of them made their way through the burning building, keeping their heads low until they made it to the Manager’s Suite. The door was ajar, and the two shared nervous looks.

“Let’s do this.” Yusuke said, and he squeezed Akira’s hand. “For everyone’s sake.”

Akira nodded, and pushed the door open.

The Manager’s Suite wasn’t as grand as Akira’s penthouse suite had been, but it was luxurious in its own right. Contrasting with Akira’s white walls, the suite had dark walls, melting plaster and burning wallpaper yielding to the flames that consumed the building, and right beyond them, Akira and Yusuke saw Shido standing in front of an open window, a rope ready and attached to the windowsill.

The man was smirking at them, and the two glared at him as he easily crossed the room, as if a fire wasn’t tearing it apart at that very moment. He took a seat on the mostly-unharmed bed, and held out in his hands a sealed envelope.

Akira’s eyes narrowed at him. He knew what that envelope held.

“And you’re finally here, you rebellious little bitch.” Shido drawled, crossing one leg over the other. “And you brought your fucktoy, too.”

“Thanks,” Akira snapped before Yusuke could protest, “ _The fucktoy_ was more satisfying than you could ever be.”

Shido’s expression tightened at that, and he pursed his lips in a severe frown.

“You’ve lost, Shido. Don’t even make any stupid attempts of escaping. You’re surrounded by the police.” Akira took a step forward, and Yusuke was quick to stand beside him, ready to defend him if Shido tried anything.

“Stupid, stupid child.” The man sneered. “I _own_ Tokyo. I own _Japan_ , even. You can’t touch me. The masses still worship me. The police remain blind to the truth.”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself.” Yusuke replied icily. “I thought you, _of all people,_ should know of how desire works. Humans crave depravity. They will prefer shock over contentment.”

“So how else are we going to convince the world of your sins but by exposing them completely?” Akira grinned. “Believe me when I say it’s over— _it’s really over,_ Shido.”

The man remained nonplussed. “So, that’s that?” He replied, and Akira tensed in hesitation.

“That’s… that.” Yusuke deadpanned, and Shido laughed dryly.

“You’ve avenged The Orpheus. You’ve outed all the scum of society who’s put their cock in your loose ass.” Shido continued, “Do you think that’s everything?”

Akira’s hand balled into a shaking fist. “Don’t make light of this, you bastard—”

“I never get my hands dirty, did you know that?” Shido cut him off, and he suddenly got up, much to Akira and Yusuke’s surprise. Yusuke pulled Akira back when part of the ceiling fell down to their right, and yet Shido didn’t seem to care. “Your parents… The Orpheus… no blood stains my hands.” His smirk widened. “I don’t _care_ if you burn this casino down. I am _blameless._ ”

He shook his head, chuckling. “If there’s anyone you should be mad at, it’s that shit _dog_ Sudou. Or even my foolish son.” He looked at the two of them, triumph twinkling in his eyes. “Who was it that held the gun and fired it? Who was it that set fire to your home—to how many homes—to The Orpheus?”

Shido gave them both a theatrical bow. “Not me. All I did was tell them what to do.”

“You—” Akira began, but he was cut off with a snide laugh.

“Never forget this, _Crown Jewel_. So long as there are people who want power—power only _I_ can provide—my influence remains.” He said, “I am _untouchable._ I will steer this country the way _I_ want it to go.”

He took a step forward, towards them, and Yusuke pulled Akira behind him, glaring up at the man as if daring him to keep moving forward.

“Even after The Metaverse burns to the ground, I can drag you right back into hell, into my arms.” The man’s grin widened. “The _both_ of you, even. Even the fox has some face value.”

Yusuke’s skin crawled, and Akira saw red.

He yanked Yusuke back behind him, snarling at the man.

“ _Don’t touch him._ ”

Shido reached out for Akira, and took him by the chin.

“Still, even after you’ve burned down my casino, angry like this, you’re beautiful.” He said lowly, and Akira jerked his face away, backing into Yusuke’s chest. “How about a deal, then? We can compromise.”

Yusuke frowned. “Like father, like son.” He murmured.

“There is no compromise.” Akira snarled. “You’re going to be tried for your crimes, Shido. _Give us the will._ ”

“I will hand it over, to you, young Yusuke Kitagawa. _You_ will own The Metaverse, after it rises from the ashes anew.” He spoke over Akira’s voice, and the sound of something crashing far above them. “The promise that a young owner holds… it will be the dawn of a new era.”

He held the envelope up, grinning the Devil’s smile.

“All you have to do is work for me.” He said, “You’ll have all the money you ever needed—your foster father, Madarame, he held everything back from you, didn’t he?”

Yusuke jolted at that, and he gaped at the smirking man. “S-sensei, he…”

“He abused you, _used_ you.” Shido said, “For _years and years._ I’m sure you know—he’d been pirating the _Sayuri_ —”

“For his personal gain, yes.” Yusuke said shakily, and Akira looked up at him worriedly. “Aside from his students’ artworks signed under his name, he made fakes of that portrait.” He took a shuddering breath, blood cold despite the fire burning around them. “I… I saw everything.”

“The basis of the _Incarceration._ I heard from your teacher.” Shido smirked, and Yusuke jolted.

Akira gasped softly. “He… knew.”

“Oh, yes. He had intended for Yusuke to find out, eventually.” Shido nodded, “It was a way to break you, considering how long you had been holding on—a thin string ready to snap, a hermit ready to lock himself into a small room and do whatever his master told him to.”

He waved the will teasingly at Yusuke.

“And my, did it work excellently—you did everything you could for him. You painted the _Incarceration_ , all the galleries—for Madarame.” Akira could see Yusuke’s resolve slipping. Panic rose in his chest.

“Yusuke—”

“You could avenge yourself.” Shido said, “Avenge your mother.”

“My… mother?” Yusuke breathed.

“Didn’t you know? She was the original artist of the _Sayuri_. It became Madarame’s when he let her die of a stroke.”

Akira’s heart shot to his throat. “Yusuke…”

The artist remained still, and Akira looked at him nervously. Shido’s smirk widened even more, and waved the will again, teasingly oh-so-close, and yet so far away.

Yusuke looked at the will. All that time, he had been so blind—

No, not blind. He had constantly turned his eyes away from the truth.

Madarame knew _everything_. He knew about every single little thing that happened in the atelier, in their new home in Shibuya. He knew Yusuke would find that peacock-door room, he left it unlocked on purpose for him to find.

He knew about his mother, about how she died. He _knew_ , and he _kept it from him._

Anger simmered in him, boiling slowly and steadily. The blue of a lobster turning an angry red.

Fury, melting into white-hot rage.

“Take the will. Be my successor, in the way Akechi never would. Avenge your family.” He sneered, and Akira jumped when he suddenly grabbed him, and yanked him close to himself. He grabbed Akira’s chin _hard_ with his hand, still smirking. “And _this_ is all ours. I’ll even let you have him sometimes.”

“You fu—”

Akira struggled in Shido’s grip, and the man kicked him in the back of his knees. Akira let out a small, choked sound of pain—his wounds from Shido’s abuse hadn’t healed yet—he couldn’t fight back.

“Who cares about the other people in The Metaverse? You don’t know them. They distrust you for hurting Akira. They don’t care about you.” Shido sneered, slapping his hand over Akira’s mouth. “You don’t owe them _anything_.”

Makoto, Ryuji, Ann, the others—they really didn’t trust him. Haru, in her vested interest of investigating her father’s activities, had inadvertently dragged him into this.

They were the cause of all this… _pain._

“You hate Akechi, don’t you?” Shido continued, holding fast to Akira as he struggled in his grip. “If you want, I’ll have him replace Akira as the new Metaverse’s most expensive whore again. You’ll see him suffer again, and again.”

Akechi did something horrible, true—he gambled against him, cheated on their games—he _stole_ Yusuke’s first time, even if it _was_ with Akira, forcing him to give it away, and not on his own terms.

“Revenge is sweet, boy—it will be heaven for you. You’ll drown in desire, in pleasure, with this useless little whore, who’ll only be ever good for a good fuck.”

Akira.

Dear _god_ , Akira.

Akira was the reason why he kept coming back, the person he wanted to save from The Metaverse. If it wasn’t for Akira, he didn’t have to find out the truth of everything—he didn’t have to face the reality of the _Sayuri_ , of the truth of his mother’s passing, of all the pain this one man—Masayoshi Shido—had caused.

If it wasn’t for Akira, he would have…

He reached for the will, and he could see despair dawn in Akira’s horrified eyes.

No—

If it wasn’t for Akira, he would have never grown into the man he was now.

He met Akira’s eyes, saw the desperation and the plea for clarity in them, and his heart sank.

This was the person he fell in love with—through the rough and the smooth, thick and thin, he would stand by Akira’s side. There was the good of knowing Akira, the love and the kindness he gave Yusuke— _could give Yusuke_ —and of course, there was the bad. The pain and the suffering Akira carried, he knew he had to share it.

As a decent human being.

As the man who fell in love with him.

“I came to The Metaverse with the intention of finding the truth about my teacher.” He said slowly. “Possibly, that could have just pushed me further into his plans of breaking me. Perhaps that was why he was so receptive to my arrival to The Metaverse.”

Shido lit up, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, to some extent, there will be a part of me that will not forgive Goro Akechi. Yes, I am aware that Akira’s friends did not hold me of the highest regard.”

“Yes, that’s it.” Shido nodded, grinning wider.

Slowly, Yusuke lowered his hands.

“However,” Yusuke met his eye defiantly, and it felt like so long ago, when as Fox, he faced off Samael in a game for a night with Joker. Shido’s smile fell, and Akira’s eyes widened. “Akira’s friends have accepted me as their own. I _care_ about their plights.”

His hands balled into fists. “Goro Akechi helped us escape, and as far as I know, has been helping Akira, even before I arrived. Somewhere inside him is someone redeemable.” He took a shaky breath. “And while I may never forgive him, I _will_ save him, too.”

“I am better than revenge. I will find that on my own accord, and I do not need to usurp another’s property to find my own strength.” Yusuke’s gaze sharpened into a glare. “I will take that so-called glory from you, not as your heir, but as the man who will take everything from you.”

Shido’s grip loosened on Akira, and the young man made a move to grab the will—but Shido was aware of himself, and pushed Akira towards Yusuke, scowling deeply.

“Then _die_ here, along with your little whore lover.” He snarled, and much to Yusuke and Akira’s shock, kicked down a burning bedpost, blocking the two of them into a corner, where the fire raged everywhere they could go. “And watch the last of your hope burn away.”

“ _No_ —” Akira gasped, and Shido threw the Nijima will into the fire.

Yusuke and Akira watched the envelope dissolve into ash in the inferno, gaping in shock.

“I’d kept that around as leverage against you, brat,” the man spat, “But with you dead, I don’t need this anymore.” He turned around, and gave them both a dismissive wave. “I’ll take Morgana instead. If I started off younger, perhaps he’ll be more obedient than you are.”

Akira lurched at him, but Yusuke held him back, away from the flames that surrounded them dangerously to keep him from hurting himself.

“Get back here, Shido!” Akira growled, his voice pure, unshakable rage. “ _Get back here!_ ”

“Farewell, you foolish lovers.” The man smirked at them over his shoulder. “You’ll die a slow death here together, at least—if the fire won’t get you, then suffocation will.” He climbed out the window, and shimmied down the rope, finally disappearing from their view.

* * *

The stage was on fire, and Katsuya could barely see ahead of him. He had seen Sudou steal across his vision, heading back into the casino and towards the stage where prostitutes had been performing. He’d lost sight of Sudou near the stage rafters, and he couldn’t go any further than the steps up—the fire had consumed them, and he didn’t know if he could follow after him. Biting his lip, Katsuya covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief. The smoke was getting thicker.  

He had to hurry—suffocation was looming right over his head, but he wouldn’t give up now.

He needed to find Morgana.

“Suou!”

Katsuya’s head shot up and he looked to the stage to see Sudou, holding up a squirming little boy by the scruff of his shirt.

Katsuya’s gut dropped, his heart stopping.

“Morgana!” He gasped, and his shock quickly melted into anger. “Sudou! Let go of my nephew, _right now!_ ”

“As if.” The man laughed, the sound of it echoing eerily despite the roar of the flames around them. “This little brat is a Kurosu too! He’s mine!”

“No!” Morgana squirmed, and Katsuya realised he was holding onto something that dimly sparkles in the light of the flames around them. A box—gilded and lovely, albeit a little dimmer than it used to be. “Suou! My surname is Suou! I’m gonna be a police officer, just like Dad was!”

“You little brat!” Sudou shook him violently, and around them the stage began to collapse. Katsuya’s heart leapt to his throat when he saw the planks around them give away to fire, plunging down into the deep pit below the stage. “I’m gonna erase every last trace of your father from you—you’re gonna be my perfect little Kurosu!”

“You’re going to die in there!” Katsuya snapped, “Get out of there right now, or you’ll both die!”

“Shut the fuck up, Suou!” The arsonist snarled, and Morgana finally managed to kick the man in the gut. He doubled over, and Morgana tried to run, but his grip on his shirt remained, and he pulled Morgana back to his side. “You damn piece of shit—you—”

“Uncle Katsuya!” Morgana cried, “I-I have the Holy Grail! You gotta—mmph!” Sudou slapped his hand over the boy’s mouth, and Katsuya gaped at him.

The Holy Grail. That was what Morgana came in here for.

“Let him go, Sudou!” Katsuya pressed. “It’s over! You’ve had your revenge! Leave Morgana out of this!”

“Never! If he won’t come with me, then I’m taking him down with me!” The man was wild, hysterical, as the flames around them grew. “I’ll burn the Suou out of him!”

“Uncle Katsuya!” Morgana was sobbing, managing to break his mouth free from Sudou’s grip, “A-at least take the Holy Grail! P-please! C-catch—”

“Shut the hell up,” Sudou snapped, and that was when a sickening _snap_ made the stage slump downward into the pit. Katsuya’s heart came to a shocking stop when he lost sight of Morgana and Sudou, and the flames shot up higher above his head.

No, he couldn’t—

He promised Tatsuya. And Jun.

He promised them he would protect them, their sons, their little family.

_This couldn’t be happening._

“Morgana!” He screamed, and it felt like hell itself was laughing at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao wouldn't it be hilarious if i just killed htem all off here


	44. et la vie continue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (and life goes on)
> 
> Akechi smiled to himself, Hifune’s light novel in his hand, and felt for the first time in years—peace. 
> 
> It would take him a while, but he would figure things out. A dead boy walking, he now had all the time in the world to figure things out. 
> 
> Midnight rolled by, and he huffed softly. 
> 
> “The first day of the rest of your lives, huh.” He said. “That… sounds like a good plan.”

He felt the world slip down from under his swaying feet, and Morgana felt sheer _panic_ flood his mind.

_He was going to die._

He was going to die, and he was going to take the Holy Grail with him. Tears prickled his eyes as he squeezed them shut in fear, and his body landed heavily on the floor. The wind knocked out of his lungs, Morgana choked, bracing himself for the worst when he felt someone turn him over.

When he opened his eyes, no one was there—Sudou had moved back, away from the collapsed area to near the backstage divider. Morgana lay on the stage one or two feet beyond him, Sudou having dropped him in his mad scramble to safety. Unfortunately, the flames were already burning even the backstage, and there was nowhere to go—

Save for one miraculous plank in the middle of the huge hole in the centre of the stage, a rafter from the ceiling that fell down to give a flimsy, brittle bridge to safety.

Morgana’s eyes widened at the sight of a man standing beside him, looking at him.

“Wh-who are—”

“Hurry on,” the man had a British accent, and he helped Morgana to his feet. “I’ve set up the bridge for you, but it won’t last.”

Morgana looked to the edge of the bridge, and hope surged in his chest at the sight of his uncle, standing near the end of the plank, reaching out for his nephew with both his arms. “Come on, hurry.”

The boy lit up and hurried towards him, coming to a hesitant slow at the start of the plank bridge.

“Go on.” The man said urgently. “You can do it.”

He didn’t know if he could.

“U-Uncle Katsuya…” Morgana said weakly, hugging the Holy Grail close to himself as he looked to his uncle pleadingly.

“Everything will be alright.” Katsuya said gently. “I’m right here. Don’t give up now, Morgana.”

“Trust him.” The man urged, “I’ll hold you steady while you walk. You’ll be safe.”

The boy looked at the stranger uneasily, and nodded. He slowly made his way across, and as promised, the stranger’s hand was on his back, holding him steady as he walked the awkward, dangerous tightrope to safety. He could see the relief in Katsuya’s eyes, and he could feel everything nearing the end—

When Sudou came running right after Morgana, murder in his eyes.

“I’ll kill you!” He snarled, and Katsuya looked at Morgana desperately.

“Come on, jump! I’ll catch you!”

“I-I can’t—I’m too small, I won’t—I won’t make it!”

“You have to try!” Katsuya pressed, and Morgana looked at the stranger fearfully.

“I’ll help you.” He said kindly, and held Morgana’s waist. “Here we go.”

Morgana nodded fearfully, jumping off the fallen rafter with the stranger’s help as Sudou stepped foot on it. Katsuya caught him in his arms, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. He pulled his nephew into a tight hug, sighing deeply, unmindful of the way the Holy Grail dug into their chests. Morgana could see the stranger grab hold of Sudou, and pushed him off the rafter bridge, tearing a horrifying scream from the man as he fell. Morgana winced, and clung to his uncle in relief.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to Morgana’s temple. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Uncle Katsuya…” the boy sobbed into the crook of the man’s neck. “I-I was so scared, I…”

“It’s going to be alright.” He repeated, hushing Morgana softly. “I’ve got you. It’s over.”

Morgana could see the stranger give him one last smile, and much to his shock, he disappeared in a blink of an eye.

 _Another_ ghost of The Metaverse. He wondered who that was—he never got the man’s name.

Suddenly Sudou slammed against the edge of the burning stage, eyes wild with anger, and Katsuya let out a yell of shock, pulling back with Morgana still in his arms.

“You little brat—you—argh!” The man let out a bloodcurdling yell of pain, and uncle and nephew winced at the sound of it. “Pull me out! Get me out! I’ll—”

Katsuya hesitated, but he looked down when Morgana tugged on his coat. “Morgana?”

“I can’t hear anything, Uncle Katsuya.” The boy said quietly, turning to look at the man with cold eyes, and clarity finally shone through the madness in Sudou’s gaze.

“You—”

“Let’s go home.” He said, looking him dead in the eyes, and Katsuya blinked at him.

“Morgana…”

“It’s over.” The boy said, and hugged his uncle. “I wanna go home.”

Katsuya looked at Sudou, and steeled his expression.

“Suou, you—”

“It’s over, Sudou.” Katsuya said. “Burn in hell.”

He turned around, and carefully began carrying Morgana out of the building, the sound of Sudou’s bloodcurdling scream echoing horrifyingly behind them.

The boy looked back at the burning casino, and his eyes widened to see the stranger standing beside a fallen chandelier, waving at him. Morgana gave him a weak smile and waved back, and with a flicker of fire, the man was gone.

In the wake of his departure, an inexplicable sadness gripped Morgana’s chest, but somehow it was warm, a soft kindness he came to know of Tatsuya—and he smiled sadly.

“Morgana?” Katsuya asked, and the boy shook his head.

“It’s over.” He breathed contentedly, “I’m just… glad it’s over.”

* * *

The Audi had been better, Arsene thought as he skidded the Everest he stole from Shido’s garage to a halt a block away from the burning casino, a comfortable distance from the police barricade set up around the perimeter. He frowned, getting out of the car, and he looked up at the flaming building worriedly.

Akira and Yusuke were hopefully not in there, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Excuse me,” He said, approaching a single stray police officer by his patrol car, and the tall man turned to look at him. “I have two friends that may still be in the—”

He cut himself off when he finally registered what the man looked like.

The resemblance was uncanny. His throat tightened up, the swell of emotion threatening to spill from his eyes.

“In the?” The officer asked, and Arsene pursed his lips to calm himself down.

“The… The Metaverse.” He bit out.

The man with Robin Ganimard’s face frowned thoughtfully. “That’s not good.” He said, and immediately radioed his fellows. “Hey, I’ve got a report that there’s probably still more people in there?”

“ _Where?_ ” A woman asked on the other side, and the man looked at Arsene.

“The Manager’s Suite.” He replied into the radio. “Please—my friends, they need help—”

“ _Copy that. We’ll send someone up there._ ”

“Don’t you worry, Sir.” The man said as he hung up, and Arsene hated the fact he wore Robin’s smile so… _well._ Arsene wanted to run, but the concern he had for Akira and Yusuke made him stay. “They’ll have the fire department get them out.”

“Th-thank you…” Arsene deflated slightly, and the man gave him a sidelong glance. He laughed nervously, and Arsene cocked his head at him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re gorgeous?” He asked casually, and Arsene laughed softly.

“I have been told quite a few times, yes.” He replied sadly, looking down at his shoes as he leaned tiredly on the police car, and the man nodded.

“Well, they’re not wrong.” He agreed. “Your beauty mark was my favourite part.”

Arsene’s blood ran cold in his veins, and he whirled around to gape at the man.

As a complete stranger, he couldn’t have known—Arsene’s concealer hadn’t come off yet.

“Who… who _are_ you?” He asked weakly, and the man gestured at his hand.

“Is it okay if I held your hand?”

“I…” Arsene didn’t trust himself to speak, and nodded instead.

The officer took his hand, gently squeezing it, and sighed.

“The first day we met, we watched the sun set.”

It couldn’t _be_ —

“Robi—”

“Close your eyes, Arsene.”

The thief let out a soft sob, but did as he was told, feeling a cool forehead press against his. “You were a real life fairytale. I never thought I would ever meet someone like you.” Robin murmured to him. “And I’m glad I did. I’m sorry I never got to tell you.”

“You never got to tell me many things.” Arsene laughed bitterly. “Though I suppose the same went for myself. I never told you what kind of trouble I would get us into, and yet you never hated me for it.”

“How could I?” Robin laughed. “I love you.”

Something clenched in Arsene’s chest, and he sighed. “I am so, so sorry. About everything.”

“No regrets.” Robin replied. “Your Crown Jewel did it. He’s avenged everyone. His parents, the theatre—you, me.” A soft kiss pressed to Arsene’s lips, and the thief jolted. “I’m glad you found my grandma’s ring. I meant to give that to you, eventually. Even if it was a little less nice than the stuff you’ve come to get used to.”

“I love it. It is my greatest treasure.” Arsene replied. “It—it reminds me of you.”

“I’m glad.” Robin laughed softly. “Well. It’s time for me to say goodbye, properly.”

“Yes,” Arsene sighed against phantom lips on his. “I suppose it is.”

“Until we meet again, Arsene.”

A promise—one he would keep, the unbroken and unspoken promise of forever between them, like Arsene’s heart, for the years to come.

He opened his eyes, and the street was empty—the patrol car was gone, and the barricade was much further away than he thought it was. Arsene laughed sadly, running his hand through his hair, and he shook his head.

“Until we meet again, my dear Robin.”

* * *

It was by some dumb miracle The Metaverse was visible from all the way up there where he stood on another apartment’s fire escape. He watched it burn down, relief flooding his chest, and though it was wishful thinking, he hoped Akira and Yusuke were successful in their mission.

He hoped that they found the will, that they released all the evidence the Phantom Thieves collected over the years. He hoped that they would drag Shido’s name through the mud, along with every other sinful bastard who ever obeyed him willingly. He hoped their reputations would never survive the carnage, every single monster who ever indulged in the den of desire that was The Metaverse Casino.

 _Himself,_ included.

Akechi smiled to himself, Hifune’s light novel in his hand, and felt for the first time in years—peace.

It would take him a while, but he would figure things out. A dead boy walking, he now had all the time in the world to figure things out.

Midnight rolled by, and he huffed softly.

“The first day of the rest of your lives, huh.” He said. “That… sounds like a good plan.”

He looked down at his phone, playing back his father’s speech to Akira and Yusuke, and he huffed fondly.

“Yeah, they suit each other…” he murmured. “So endlessly optimistic and seeing the good in others.” He laughed derisively, hitting the ‘send’ button to his recipient—one Viscount Arsene Lupin the Fourth—and shook his head. “How _disgusting._ ”

_Here’s his damning testimony. He’s expecting a getaway vehicle behind the casino, right by the Manager’s Suite. Hashiba has already bailed on him after I told them he’s dropped them, so it’s all up to you now._

Arsene would know what to do, if his deductions about the missing Everest in the garage were correct.

* * *

“Yes, thank you. I will be fine. _Thank you._ ” Sae waved the EMT off, before giving Makoto a wry smile as she hugged her blanket closer to herself. “Makoto, I’m glad you’re safe.” She said, and she pulled her sister into a hug. “How’s Haru?”

“She’s… over there.” The sisters turned to see Haru finishing off a conversation with an EMT wrapping her ankle with a bandage, and she waved the young woman goodbye with a sweet smile. When she realised the sisters were looking at her, she gave them both a wide smile, waving at them as well.

Sae gave her a warm smile, and turned back to Makoto. “You know, if you needed privacy at home for you and Haru, I could—”

“S- _Sis._ ” Makoto blushed deeply, and Sae laughed softly.

“Well. We’ll take care of that later. Akira and Yusuke. Have they left the building yet?”

Makoto jolted. In the relief of seeing her sister again, she had almost forgotten about Yusuke and Akira.

“They’re still in there!” Makoto gasped, and much to Sae’s alarm, she hurried to a nearby officer. “Please, you have to—”

“Wait! Nijima, someone’s already radioed them in.” He replied, pulling her back away from the burning building. “Keep calm. Don’t add to the problem.”

Makoto bit her lip nervously. “They’re my friends, Sir, I—”

“Someone’s coming out!” Someone called out from near the exit, and Makoto’s head jerked up to see Katsuya running out of the building, just in time for another explosion to shake it. Her eyes widened, and she looked back at Haru, as if asking if she could run ahead without her. The brunette nodded at her, and Makoto hurried to the two of them with Sae at her heels, Katsuya panting heavily as he skidded to a halt in front of her.

“Suou-san,” she gasped, and she looked down at Morgana. “Morgana!”

“Morgana!” Sojiro called out, pushing past people, Ohya and Seiji at his heels. “Oh, my _god_ , kid, you scared the hell out of all of us!”

“I’m sorry!” Morgana squeaked, pulling away from Katsuya to show what he was holding. Makoto’s eyes widened, her eyes filling with tears. Beside her Sae took a sharp breath, and the sisters stepped closer to uncle and nephew to see Morgana reveal a gilded box he held in his arms. “I-I heard Aunt Maya say it was in there, so I… I just had to…”

“The Holy Grail.” Sae breathed. “I… I thought it’d been lost forever. Oh, _god._ ”

“It was in a part of the theater that hadn’t been turned into the casino.” Morgana explained, “I… I was the only person who could find it, I—” he shook his head. “I’m sorry. That was dangerous.”

“Absolutely.” Katsuya said sternly, “Why didn’t you just tell the adults with you?”

Morgana’s eyes welled with tears. “I… I wanted to save Akira too. I heard… I heard the Holy Grail could help him, so I…” He paused, and looked around. “Where is he?”

Makoto and Sae looked at each other sheepishly, and Katsuya’s eyes widened at them.

“M-Miss Nijima?”

“They’re still in there. Akira, and Yusuke.” Makoto said, and Katsuya’s shock grew into horror. “I’m sorry, they…” She rubbed her arm, “I don’t even know where Shido went.”

“Akira,” Katsuya turned to look at the building, loss tinging his voice. “No, don’t give up now…”

* * *

Shido dropped to the ground in a secluded alley behind The Metaverse, where no police cars stood. He grinned at the sight of a black Everest parked on the curb, and quickly climbed into the backseat, laughing softly.

“Good that you made it.” he said, brushing off the ashes from his clothes without looking at the driver, and the car began to move towards the main road again. “To Chiyoda—Akechi would have long bolted by now, the snivelling little coward that he is. The apartment there is mine again; it seems I have to build from the ground up again.”

“How unfortunate.” A neutral voice said from the front, and Shido paused, his eyes widening in shock when the Everest turned to head back towards the burning Metaverse. He hurried to look at the driver, and saw a smirking, plain-faced man seated at the front, a pair of luxurious high heels hanging by their straps from his wrist.

“W-who are—”

“I am the police’s equivalent of a living fairy tale. A face-changing mythological creature impossible to catch.” The man smirked, “And this is my revenge on you.”

Shido’s eyes widened. “Arsene Lupin.”

“Ta-ta, Masayoshi Shido.” Arsene chuckled darkly, sounding the car horn wildly as he drove through a panicked, parting crowd, heading straight towards a small group that stood the nearest to the burning building. “It is time you face the consequences of your crimes.”

“You—”

Arsene skidded the car to a halt, and a smoke bomb exploded inside the car. Shido choked, coughing violently as smoke filled the car, and much to his surprise, someone yanked the door open, letting him fall out.

He slammed onto the ground, choking, and he looked up to see a pair of women looking down at him, angry red eyes full of hatred for his prone form underneath them.

The Nijima sisters glared down at him, and he smirked up at them. “So you’ve think you’ve won.” He drawled, getting up to realise Katsuya Suou was also there, carrying his nephew Morgana in his arms. “You all have _nothing_ ,” he snarled, “Your lives are still mine. This building is _mine_ , the Nijimas left it to _me_.” His mouth curled up into a triumphant smirk. “And for all his efforts, I left your little _leader_ and his fox to burn to death in there, unable to prove a single thing.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Makoto snapped, and Sae lifted an envelope, a piece of paper jutting out of it.

That was when Shido realised Morgana was carrying a tattered, golden box.

Realisation clicked, and dread sank in his chest like a knife.

“ _I, Hamuko Nijima, being of full age and sound mind and memory, do make, publish and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament._ ” Sae read the paper like a death sentence, and Shido’s gut dropped. “Skipping down a few more lines, my mother said this: _I leave The Orpheus Theatre to my daughters, Sae and Makoto Nijima_ ,” her lips curled up into a triumphant smirk.

“What was that about this building being yours?” Makoto snarled, and grabbed him roughly, turning him around and cuffing him so quickly he didn’t have time to respond. “You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can _and will_ be held against you.”

“Wait—unhand me _this instant—_ ”

“How unfortunate.” He heard Arsene’s voice say, and he watched as a hotel bellboy handed Sae a smartphone, twin smirks of mischief on their face. She pressed a button on it, and though the phone’s sound was miniscule compared to the roar of flames around them, Shido heard it loud and clear.

“ _Who was it that held the gun and fired it? Who was it that set fire to your home—to how many homes—to the Orpheus?_ ” Shido’s voice played on it like a hollow echo. “ _Not me. All I did was tell them what to do._ ”

“Oh, how unfortunate indeed.” Sae smirked. “I’m going to destroy you, Masayoshi Shido, the exact same way you did my mother and father, so many years ago.”

Shido hung his head, and Makoto finally let a smile cross her face.

“We did it, guys.” She breathed, and Sae shook her head, looking up at the burning building.

“No, not yet.”

* * *

Akira clung onto Yusuke, breathing shallow as the flames around them grew closer and closer. Yusuke held him close, hugging him tightly, as if his mere embrace was enough to protect him from the fire that drew nearer to them.

“Hey,” Akira said quietly, and Yusuke looked down at him. “Let’s… let’s take a seat.”

Yusuke nodded, not trusting himself to speak as the two of them sank down onto the ground, still tangled together in a desperate embrace.

“The _Incarceration_ is still upstairs.” Akira said quietly, and Yusuke huffed fondly.

“I don’t think we would need it anymore.” He said, and Akira smiled at him. “For the first time in years, though we are trapped here right now, I have never felt so… free.”

“No longer imprisoned by your own self, huh.” Akira nodded. “Yeah. I think I get it.”

They fell quiet after that, and after a long moment of silence, Yusuke spoke again.

“We’re… going to die here, aren’t we?” He asked, and Akira laughed quietly, nodding against the crook of his neck.

“I think so.” He said, pressing a kiss to the hollow of Yusuke’s throat. “In the very least… I’m glad I could spend my last moments with you.”

“I feel the same way.” Yusuke replied, pulling Akira away from him to look in his eyes. “I love you, Akira.” He said, cupping Akira’s face in his hands. “I would not have had my life go any other way if it meant I lived on without trying to save you.”

Akira’s eyes welled with tears, and he leaned into Yusuke’s touch with a sigh. “Saving me… I had wanted to save _you._ Along with everyone else in The Metaverse.” Yusuke leaned forward to kiss a tear that had rolled unheeded down his cheek. Akira shook his head, and pulled him up to kiss him, slowly, sweetly. They parted for air, but Akira pressed their foreheads together. “I was so ready to die in that apartment. Alone, if that was what it took to find that will.”

“And now it’s just ash, and we’re going to die in a fire.” Yusuke replied, and Akira laughed bitterly.

“You’re so deadpan.”

“You’re so cynical.” Yusuke chuckled, and he kissed Akira again. “The rest will find some way to save themselves. They are all more than capable enough to.”

“Yeah.” Akira sighed, “And Morgana has Uncle Katsuya now. The evidence is everywhere. Everything…” He laced their fingers together. “Everything will be fine. Even without us.”

“Yes.” Yusuke shut his eyes, and tried not to think of the fire burning them alive, stealing the air from their lungs, searing white-hot pain until the very last of their living moments. “At least we have each other.”

“I love you, Yusuke.”

“I love you too.”

The windows smashed, and the two flinched on reflex, hugging each other tightly again—

And the splash of water doused them both, the sudden cool sensation of salvation shocking them both into wide-eyed clarity. Yusuke and Akira looked up from each other, shocked, and they turned to see a fireman grinning at them from outside the window. The hose in his hands dripped with water, and a path soaked with water formed like the fire had parted.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said good-naturedly, “Let’s get the two of you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the very least im glad goro is ok.......


	45. le fils de lys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the son of lilies)
> 
> And they were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay endgame porn

“I pray for your guidance on this day, mother.” He murmured, hands pressed neatly together, and the ceiling fan lazily spun over his head. The creaks of wood and the rustling of the bamboos in the garden mixed with the calm late-afternoon cricket songs, and the scent of warm musky wood mixed with the scent of burning incense. “I’m going to see him today.”

The white lilies by his mother's shrine were in full bloom, and two one-hundred-yen coins rattled together at the bottom of his pocket.

“You were always the luckier one, I was told.”

He smiled softly, and straightened up. He thumbed at the white lilies framing his mother's softly-smiling face, fresh from childbirth with the joy of a mother whose future held the promise of hope, and the bundle of white in her arms was the biggest gift and the biggest challenge life would throw at her.

The bundle in her arms, in the end, became the only evidence of her life on canvas, and grew to be more than she could ever hope he would be.

“The _Sayuri_ is beautiful.” He said quietly. “I… I never went to see it ever since I discovered the fakes, but now, after everything—after realising she was yours and now she is mine…” he laughed fondly. “I went to see her. She truly is incredibly beautiful.”

The _Sayuri_ now hung in the foyer, a warm, kind greeting to all who entered his home, back in its rightful place.

“Thank you for making her, mother. And thank you, for always watching over me.”

He got up, and turned to look at the smiling young man who stood in the doorway. Warmth filled his chest, and Yusuke got up to approach him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Akira. Have I made you wait long?”

“Not at all.” He replied warmly. “So, that’s where you’ve been putting my lilies.”

“Ah, yes.” Yusuke smiled back at his mother’s shrine. “Thank you again, for picking the perfect ones for her.”

“Of course.” Akira smiled, and he took Yusuke’s hand. “You ready?” He asked, and unconditional support shone in his eyes.

Yusuke met them with sheer _love_ , and nodded.

“As ready as I will ever be.”

* * *

“Sensei.”

“Ah, Yusuke.” The man looked up as Yusuke sat down across him in the prison visitation hall, and much to his surprise, Madarame gave him a wide grin. “You look well. That’s wonderful.”

“Sensei—I—”

“I know why you are here, my boy.” Madarame said, and Yusuke blinked at him in surprise. “To think I would be outed by my very own student whom I thought of as a son.” He nodded. “A most wonderful betrayal, indeed.”

Yusuke deflated. “A betrayal…”

“Oh, come now. A betrayal it may be, but not every betrayal is for the worse.” The man laughed softly. “Your knife in my back had changed my heart, Yusuke. I realise now that I did in fact raise a man like myself, in the end—and yet you ended up so like your mother.” He shook his head fondly. “I raised a greedy traitor—a man with greed for the beautiful, for what was right and just. A man who would betray the worst kind of people for the best kind.”

He cupped Yusuke’s cheek in his hand tenderly. “You set free so many people that night, along with that Akira of yours, and all your new friends.” He said fondly. “I had raised a fake, in the end. A fake terrible man, so fake he turned out good, a result I somehow secretly wished would turn out, before it all went to hell.”

Yusuke hadn’t realised he’d been crying until Madarame wiped his tears away with his thumb. “I give you my blessing, my boy. I deserve this end—and so do many more.” He pulled away from Yusuke with a soft laugh. “Go, and be happy.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Yusuke sniffed, and meant more than the push he needed to begin that long, wild spiral into The Metaverse—into the future he made with his own hands. “Thank you.”

He thanked him for the sliver of hope he still held for him. The lessons Yusuke learned beyond the easel and canvas. The man whom he once called his father.

He got up, and so did the old man. Much to his surprise, Yusuke pulled him into a hug, and the man laughed fondly.

“Alright, my boy. Remember to show me the photographs of your wedding when you have it.”

“S-sensei!” Yusuke spluttered, and the two of them dissolved into laughter, like so many years ago.

“Come, now. Tell me all about you and your Akira.” The old man said warmly, “And perhaps I can convince you two adopt me a grandchild?”

* * *

“Arsene? Where are we going?” Akira asked, cocking his head at the man as they sat together in his Audi as they neared Ueno.

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?” The Frenchman smiled, and parked near a museum. Akira’s eyes widened in realisation, and Arsene went around the car to help him out of it. Hand in hand, Arsene and Akira stood in front of an exhibit hall—once named under Madarame, and now, the entryway bore Yusuke’s name.

“This is…”

“Young Yusuke’s exhibit, on its last few days.” He said warmly, and pulled Akira along with him. He gave the young woman in the doorway a friendly smile, and they strode into the gallery.

Arsene made a beeline for the right side of the hall, and Akira’s eyes widened at the sight of a tall portrait of a masked man, spread out in a seductive, beckoning sprawl.

“That’s…”

Joker seemingly reached out of the painting, calling out to the viewer to come closer, to not be so scared, whispering like an incubus primed and ready for sex.

 _This_ was the Joker everyone had met. The Joker that Akira wore as a mask to face customers, complete strangers that knew him by his body, and not his heart.

The Joker, that by Metaverse standards, did not exist.

“A marvellous artist, that Yusuke.” Arsene nodded, “He captured your other self very well, and just by a single glance.”

Akira’s lips curled up slowly into a smile, and he nodded, eyes shining with tears.

“Yeah,” he said fondly, “That’s… that’s my Yusuke.”

* * *

A few hours later, Yusuke emerged from the prison visitor’s hall to see Akira waiting for him. He smiled up at Yusuke when they met up, taking his hand in his as they began to walk back to the subway station. “I’m guessing it went well?”

“Yes.” Yusuke replied warmly. “Now, we should head off to the courthouse. Shido’s trial will be in a few hours.”

“Mm, we got time.” Akira winked at him, and Yusuke laughed fondly, letting him pull him along to wherever it was he wanted to go.

“Very well,” he said bemusedly. “Whatever you wish, Joker.”

Akira snickered, and kissed Yusuke’s knuckles. “Oh, you’re so sweet, Fox.”

* * *

The dawn after the fire that tore The Metaverse down was like any other, the sun still rose in the horizon, and shone down on the empty shell that used to be a theatre, then a casino, and now nothing. Two sisters stood together, hand in hand in front of the smoking pile of ashes, and mourned their mother and father.

Holding onto Makoto’s other hand was Futaba, thinking of her mother and sobbing into a handkerchief in relief, the Molotov of her anger spilling from her heart and out of her eyes. Beside her, Sojiro rubbed her back comfortingly, and thought about the friend and lover he had lost in her mother.

In the shadows, Arsene Lupin sat and thumbed a subpar diamond on a broken ring thoughtfully, and beside him Katsuya stood tiredly smiling, carrying a sound-asleep Morgana in his arms. In the boy’s arms, tucked close to his chest like a beloved pillow, the last remaining remnant of The Orpheus lay—the Holy Grail, the last sliver of hope that the boy himself had been.

Ann and Ryuji stood together a ways away from the group, where a slightly-burnt slip of red silk lay, and thought of a future they would have—minus one, and on the asphalt, Mishima sat with his chin in his hands, smiling about a story that would be told in the years to come. Iwai was on the phone with his son, telling him off for staying up so late with a relieved smile on his face.

In a parked car not too far away from the small groups, Haru sat back in the backseat of a stolen Ford Everest, and dozed off slightly, leaning on Ohya’s shoulder while her bodyguards watched over her. Seiji was busy on his Twitter feed, going over the news and all the evidence the Phantom Thieves had spread.

Closest to the ashes of The Metaverse, Akira and Yusuke stood hand in hand, covered with blankets, the last of the water poured on them dripping out of their hair. Arsene’s report on Akechi still rang in their ears—

“ _He had not made it._ ” he had said, “ _He says he is sorry._ ”

The smile Arsene wore did not match his words, and that was enough for Akira to understand.

“I’m sure he’s happy, wherever he is.” Akira had said, kissing Yusuke softly. “I just hope he found his own peace.”

* * *

Piling into a dinky little apartment on the edge of Outa, long-forgotten and almost decrepit, a young man dropped his exhausted body onto a dilapidated couch, dumping two duffel bags of cash on the ground next to him.

He tiredly eyed old, dusty Featherman figurines that had some wear and tear to them, creaky, well-loved joints handled by a child who dreamed of nothing more than to be his own hero.

Well, sitting there alone in the home he used to share with his mother, he supposed he’d done it.

Laughing softly to himself, Goro Akechi pulled out Hifune’s light novel, and for the first time in years, read about his beloved heroes once again.

And he was happy.

* * *

A week later, the whole thing was still on the news. It blared everywhere, on tabloids on display racks in the subway, on scrolling marquees in the train, in switching headlines underneath hosts as they talked during morning variety shows.

On one cold winter morning, alone by Shibuya’s scramble crossing, a young man looked up at the faceless buildings that defined Tokyo’s skyline, and thought about a light novel that he once held, and a face he would no longer see on TV screens.

He would miss him—Goro Akechi was a delight to hear from, and he had such good potential. He wondered where he was right now, if he was warm in the surrounding cold of the approaching winter, if he was enjoying the book he had left in the apartment in the mad scramble to get to safety.

Hifune smiled into the rim of his hot cocoa, and nodded.

He probably did. He hoped Akechi liked Featherman as much as he did.

“Well, winter Komiket is just around the corner.” He huffed, “Maybe I should get on publishing my own light novels for him to see.”

* * *

The room they were in was different than the first time they did this.

Akira pulled Yusuke down with him onto the bed, kissing him slowly with a pleased hum. Hands wandered, breaths intermingled, and shoes were toed off the edge of the bed with a careless ease that felt so _easy_ and natural.

Gone was the haze of aphrodisiac, gone were the masks and secrets between them, and simply Akira smiled lazily up at Yusuke.

“We’re going to be late.” Yusuke said warmly, but kissed Akira again, swallowing his laughter as their tongues intertwined again, Akira tugging Yusuke’s shirt off his shoulders insistently. “Akira.” He chuckled when they pulled apart, and Akira sat up to properly strip Yusuke of his clothes.

“Mm, even just a little quickie?” Akira hummed, and Yusuke pulled away from him completely. Immediately Akira’s hands dropped, and he looked off to the side, blushing in embarrassment. “I-I, um… sorry, am I pressuring you?” he asked sheepishly. “I-it’s just… it’s been a while.” His blush deepened, and Yusuke couldn’t help but chuckle fondly. “I missed you.”

The days that followed The Metaverse’s collapse was spent apart, Akira was pulled into a flurry of activity as the scandal the Phantom Thieves caused waves of shock all across Tokyo. Akira starred prominently in many dirty little photos that was aired like dirty laundry all across the Internet, and Yusuke found himself standing in the sidelines while Akira was interviewed, and interrogated and gaped at in talk shows, in press cons, in the Tokyo PD interrogation room. He let Akira have the time to himself, to catch up with his family without him, and the first few nights of the rest of their lives was spent alone in his suddenly-too-large home.

It was for Akira, he told himself—suddenly the artist truthfully credited to so many art shows once credited to Madarame, and Yusuke found himself busy with his own exhibits.

Days stretched into weeks, and soon, when Shido’s trial began, so did Akira and Yusuke’s time together after everything.

Yusuke shook his head, cupping Akira’s cheek in his hand tenderly.

“No, I want this.” He said warmly, “I have missed you too.”

Akira lit up, and he leaned forward to kiss Yusuke, shucking off his own clothes. They kissed and kissed, tongues rubbing against each other as they began to strip, unseeing and hurriedly, reluctant to part from each other unless absolutely necessary.

It didn’t take long for Akira to end up naked, on top of Yusuke and straddling his hips. The young man grinned down at Yusuke, and swallowed his erect cock halfway.

Yusuke groaned in approval, throwing his head back, but much to Akira’s surprise, he felt Yusuke gingerly trying to push him off.

“Yusuke?” He asked softly, wiping his mouth off with the back of his wrist, and he squeaked when Yusuke sat up to kiss him deeply. Akira quickly melted into the kiss, but as suddenly as it began, it was over, and Yusuke began kissing down the column of his throat, earning him a soft moan of approval from Akira. “H-hey, what’re you up to?”

“I intend on returning the favour.” Yusuke replied simply, and Akira’s eyes widened. He barely had time to react when Yusuke reversed their positions, sliding down Akira’s body.

Ah, Akira’s body—Takemi had been so supportive, and with her help, many of Akira’s injuries quickly faded. Now, only the ghosts of scars and burns littered his body. There was still a long way to go for Akira to completely heal—for _everyone_ to completely heal, but Yusuke could wait.

There was the rest of their lives to look forward to, after all.

“Mm, Yusuke—you— _ah!_ ” Akira’s voice cut off into a choked scream when Yusuke took the head of his cock into his mouth, timidly sucking on the hot flesh in his mouth. “Nnh—a-ahh, oh my _god_ —”

Yusuke pulled off him, feeling his own cheeks burn like Akira’s were. “Tell me what you like, Akira.”

“Oh, my _god._ ” Akira replied intelligently, and Yusuke sank down on him again. Gingerly he rubbed his tongue on the underside of Akira’s cock, tracing the thick vein there, and Akira jerked violently, his thighs clenching around either side of Yusuke’s head. “Y-yes—ahh, yes, right there…” He panted, straining not to buck into Yusuke’s inexperienced mouth. Yusuke kept doing as he was told, and choked slightly when he could barely take in half of Akira’s length.

He looked up at Akira through his eyelashes, and when Akira’s eyes met his, he felt the young man’s cock give an interested jerk in his mouth.

“Y-Yusuke,” Akira panted, eyes slightly out of focus, lips loose with pleasure. “Y-you’re so… so beautiful.”

Yusuke inspected the beautiful red flush on Akira’s cheeks, the watery quality his grey eyes took, the shimmer of spit on his lips, and barely smiled around Akira’s cock in his mouth.

Akira, too, was beautiful like this.

He sucked on the cock a little forcefully once, and Akira let out a choked yell. “A-ah, so _good_ …” He whined when Yusuke pulled off him, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, and he looked up dazedly at Yusuke. “Nnh?” he groaned.

“Apologies, I… I can’t take you all in.” Yusuke said, and a dazed smile spread across Akira’s face.

“That’s fine,” he panted, and Yusuke mirrored his smile.

They had the rest of their lives, after all.

Akira leaned up to kiss him gently, and Yusuke pushed forward until Akira was on his back, blindly fumbling for the packet of lube they bought before making their way back to Yusuke’s home.

“Preparation.” Yusuke said, and Akira hummed, taking the packet from Yusuke’s hand deftly. “I-I’m still not entirely sure how to—”

“I’m impatient.” Akira teased, blowing him a raspberry, and Yusuke couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from his chest. “Just keep kissing me for now, I’ll teach you how to do it later.”

“To you or to myself?”

Akira paused, and he looked up at Yusuke, who met his gaze evenly. The only thing betraying his embarrassment was the impressive flush on his cheeks, and Akira’s own cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“D-do you want to?” He asked hesitantly, “I-I mean, I don’t mind, but—”

“I do.” Yusuke replied, “I have taken you, and I want you to take me.”

Akira’s lips curled up in a loving smile, and he nodded.

“Next time.” He said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Yusuke nodded, and kissed him deeply again, slow and languid as Akira opened himself up with lazy fingers. Time seemed to slip by so easily, and by the time Akira deemed himself ready, the both of them had shining, kiss-slick lips that burned against each other with every brush of skin on skin.

“C’mon inside me,” Akira murmured, “I need to feel you in me.”

This time, completely as himself.

Yusuke nodded, pulling away from Akira to line himself up properly, and slowly slid inside him, burning and slow and tender, and the both of them winced as Yusuke sheathed himself inside Akira completely. They remained silent, quivering slightly as Akira slowly adjusted to him.

The silence between them was warm, like the embrace of a blanket as the realisation sank in—that it was all over, that they were all, _finally_ , safe.

The slide of their bodies against each other started off slow, and soft—the kind, reassuring lovemaking that slowly escalated into passionate, stuttering fucks. The tremble of their breaths was tender, and grew into moans, groans, and pleas—scattering diminutives of each other’s names lost halfway in a gasp of pleasure like rolling dewdrops of a new morning.

When their release came, it was together, white-hot and exhilarating, stealing breathless gasps from emptying lungs between loving smiles pressed against each other. Fingers tangled together, laced like ribbons on a beloved corset, and the weight of silver, of _gold_ around fingers in matching rings felt almost _real_ in the afterglow of lovemaking and joy.

They pressed their foreheads together, simple and clean like they were meant to be, and lips curled up with joy molded around a kind, gentle whispering promise of forever.

“I love you.” Akira said.

“I love you.” Yusuke said.

And they were happy.


	46. épilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (and the rest of their lives, two years later.)

The theatre was crowded, as it always had been since it reopened.

Yusuke took a seat next to a smiling Katsuya, and from his other side, Morgana gave the young man a friendly wave. Next to him, Futaba was busy with something on her laptop, hissing and poking Mishima every once in a while whenever he said something that piqued her interest. Behind them, Sojiro looked exasperated, but he gave Yusuke a friendly wave when the young man gave him a wave.

“I do hope I’m not terribly late.” Yusuke said warmly, and the brunet man shook his head.

“Not at all.” He looked at his wristwatch, and smiled. “In fact, you’re rather early this time. You’ve certainly arrived before Mr. Lupin has.”

Yusuke looked up at a special box on the second floor, and found it empty. He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, isn’t that a miracle.”

“How was the exhibit?” Katsuya asked, “Your graduation is right around the corner, too. You’ve been rather busy.”

“Yes,” Yusuke nodded, “The exhibit is booming, as always. Natsuhiko had finally joined me on this one, however—his artworks cover half the gallery, so I could trust him with the whole thing while I am occupied with my graduation.”

“Excellent,” Sae’s voice said, and Yusuke jumped, whirling around in his seat to see the woman smiling at them, her arms crossed. Behind her, Makoto and Haru walked hand-in-hand, both brunettes smiling when he met their gaze. “I’ll be sure to be there for the dinner party afterwards.”

“We’ll be there,” Haru volunteered, “Well, at least, I’ll be. Mako-chan still has her duty at the station, so she’ll run a bit late.”

“I’ll make sure to pick Sis up in case she forgets.” Makoto grinned wryly, ignoring Sae’s indignant huff as she and Haru sat down in the row behind Yusuke and Katsuya. “You know what she’s like when she’s really into a case.”

“I don’t _get into_ cases, Makoto.” Sae huffed, but she sat down next to her sister. “I’ll remember this time.”

“You’d better, Owner,” Morgana snickered, the nickname rolling off easily now, after more than a year of getting used to. “Or you’re gonna make Yusuke all upset.”

“Meh, Inari wouldn’t care.” Futaba chimed in, “Akira’s gonna be there, so what else is he gonna care about?”

“Rude,” Yusuke replied easily, now used to the girl’s quips, but he was smiling. He looked down at the flyer he’d been handed at the entrance, and sighed fondly.

“ _Anastasis_ , written by Wakaba Isshiki and Hamuko Nijima, produced by Haru Okumura.” He read, “Starring Akira Suou, and Ann Takamaki.”

“A real miracle, that.” Makoto snorted bemusedly. “I didn’t think Ann could learn how to act.”

“Mako-chan, don’t be rude.” Haru giggled, and the police officer laughed softly, elbowing her girlfriend.

“Just kidding.” She said, and leaned back in her seat. “I… don’t really remember Mom’s plays that well. I was too young at the time to stay up and watch.”

“She was amazing.” Sae said, nodding fondly. “Dad and I were always so amazed at what she could do.”

Yusuke looked at the stage, where the curtains were still drawn, the play not yet set to start. He smiled slowly, and nodded.

“I’m sure they will be amazed at what you can do now.” He said, and the sisters smiled at him.

“Thank you.” Makoto said warmly, “Oh, and thank you for designing the facade for us, Yusuke. You were a big help.”

“You always thank Inari for that.” Futaba frowned, and Makoto laughed sheepishly.

“I can never stop,” she said, “It’s like we went back in time again—it feels so similar to what I remember, but also so brand new. The facade reminds me of my parents, but also… it’s no longer stuck in the past.”

Yusuke smiled at her. “As always, you are very welcome.” He said, “I will always love the new Orpheus Theater, and I will keep coming back so long as the owners will have me.”

“ _God_ , you’re so formal.” Morgana stuck his tongue out at him, and Yusuke chuckled.

“Apologies,” he said. “It only seems right to regard the owners politely, even if they are family friends.”

“Nonsense.” Katsuya grinned, “But be quiet now, everyone—the play is about to begin.”

* * *

Hifune had had enough of blond hair—after the whole Metaverse thing two years ago, it was back to black, and now, standing alone in the lobby of the new Orpheus Theatre, he wondered how much of a big story he missed.

Well, at least Yusuke was happy—and graduating soon. He should make sure to actually show up. He owed the guy at least that much—after all that happened back then.

He spotted Iwai and his son making their way into the theatre proper, and he jumped. “Oh, crap, I better hurry,” he breathed, but he stopped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned to see an unfamiliar young man smiling at him, holding out something wrapped in brown packaging.

“Someone told me to give this to you.” A voice that felt so… familiar and yet so foreign. Hifune frowned in thought, but he took the package from the young man.

“Th-thanks?” He ventured, and with a simple nod, the young man strode off towards the theatre’s staff corridors.

He knew the play was starting soon, and he had to hurry—Kaoru had insisted he watch it with him and Iwai, but he looked down at the package the young man gave him. Quickly he tore it open, and his eyes widened to see a well-loved Featherman light novel.

Not just _any_ light novel—it was the one Hifune lost two years ago.

“Akechi-kun,” he breathed, and he flicked the book open to see a letter wedged between the pages.

_Sena,_

_Thank you for giving me another chance. Your light novel last winter Komiket was wonderful. Thanks for the dedication. I’ll come buy your new book when it comes out and find you for an author’s autograph._

_Goro_

Warmth welled up in his chest, and some spilled from his eyes.

“You’re welcome, Akechi-kun,” he sniffled, “I’m so, so glad you’re alright.”

* * *

Akira was beautiful in Jun Kurosu’s old dress, Arsene thought fondly. A Crown Jewel of a star in his own right, the true successor to his father in the world of the arts.

He sat back in his armchair in his private box on the balcony, swirling untouched red wine in a glass as he watched Akira and Ann retell the last story told by the old Orpheus Theatre. In the wings of the stage, he spotted Ryuji carrying some props other actors would need after a scene change, ready to dart out from the sides while the curtains were down.

Fondly, he thought about the most recent news headline he read—about a fallen star of an athlete recently clawed his way back up into the Olympic team after rounds and rounds of therapy, about how his girlfriend—now _fiancée_ —shot to mainstream stardom as he did.

Ann Takamaki and Ryuji Sakamoto were so, so strong, and he knew Shiho could live vicariously through whatever dream they decided to chase.

Makoto Nijima followed in her father’s footsteps, co-managing the theatre with her sister as she finished valedictorian of her class in the police academy, and she was on the fast track to being the Tokyo PD’s Chief in the coming years.

Despite the heavy blow Okumura Foods took, it still somehow managed to stay standing, thanks to the public efforts its heiress—now _owner_ , Haru Okumura, had taken to unearth the scandal that surrounded Masayoshi Shido’s conspiracy. Alongside the multitudes of people she dragged through the mud for their sins were her fiance and her father, earning her the support of the masses, and the continued support of her company while she rebuilt its structure from the ground up.

Okumura Foods, a year later, was now renowned for how well it cared for its employees, and Haru found herself a very well-decorated businesswoman, engaged to the most promising police officer Tokyo had to offer.

Futaba Sakura and Yuuki Mishima went on to be government agents, Futaba’s skills in the technological field and Mishima’s investigative reach invaluable assets to unearthing the last of Shido’s influences that still had some hold over Tokyo. Arsene had full hope that in no time, all traces of Shido would be erased from Tokyo forever.

Speaking of Masayoshi Shido—the man had been incarcerated not too long after the long, arduous trial ended. Sae Nijima had spent countless late nights building a case that the defence could barely even scratch, utterly ruining the man and any hope of him ever recovering ever again, sentenced to rot in jail for the rest of his life.

Katsuya Suou was promoted after the entire thing—his efforts in chasing down his brother’s killer, the rest of Shido’s conspiracy rocketed him to the position of Chief in the Sumaru PD. He was also awarded for neutralising Tatsuya Sudou, though he insisted that it was all also thanks to his nephew.

Little Morgana Suou went on with his life happily, and as promised, he aimed to follow in his uncle and father’s footsteps as a police officer.

Akira went on to follow his other father as a theatre artist, and now was happily married to the love of his life.

Yusuke Kitagawa—the young artist who started with nothing, and ended up with everything. With his teacher’s sins made known, all of the fame and fortune went to him, and now lived comfortably with Akira in the home he used to share with Madarame. Arsene was glad that he stayed true to himself—and had started a foundation to help other young artists struggling like he did, going so far as reconciling with Madarame’s other old students, and giving them the chance that Madarame had robbed of them.

The Phantom Thieves had all gone on to live happy, normal lives, fully relishing their freedom—

But there was another Phantom Thief that Arsene had yet to take account of.

Ever since the incident ended, he had not heard from Goro Akechi. Not a single text, or email, a call—even if he gave the young man his calling card. He wondered what the young man had been up to—a dead boy walking had all the freedom in the world in his little hands, after all.

Like a stray alley cat, Akechi had become somewhat of an enigma, an impossibility to catch.

Much like himself, really.

Arsene huffed softly. Life worked in such mysterious ways.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice said, and Arsene’s eyes widened. His box was locked from the inside, and yet a young man in a modest—if not, on the side of shabby—suit sat down next to him on the empty armchair reserved for guests. He turned to see Akechi, smiling at him sadly, and Arsene’s expression softened. “Is this seat taken?”

“No.” The man replied warmly. “Please, do accompany me this evening.”

It was so good to see him again, he thought.

“So, you’ve found me.” He said during a lull in the performance, and Akechi peered at him sheepishly. “You know, there has only been one other man in the entire world who has managed that.”

Akechi smiled slowly. “What a man he must have been.”

Arsene huffed fondly. “The best of the best.” He replied, and despite the dim light around them, a restored antique ring glittered on Arsene’s left ring finger. Akechi’s eyes softened at it, and nodded.

The both of them settled down in companionable silence, and when the play had reached a climax, Ann and Akira embracing each other warmly as Orpheus and Eurydice reunited halfway, Akechi spoke again.

“Hey, Arsene…?”

“Yes?”

“Say, do you…” the younger man laughed softly, running his hand through his hair, now cut shorter than Arsene had last seen him. “Do you have room for, I don’t know… an apprentice?”

Arsene chuckled into the rim of his wineglass fondly, and settled his hand on top of Akechi’s clenched fist on top of his seat’s armrest. He squeezed Akechi’s hand gently, and nodded.

“A dead boy walking, and a phantom thief.” He said, “I think you already fit in right by my side, my dear boy.”

Akechi laughed softly, and wiped at the corner of his eyes. “Th-thank you.”

“As I said, Goro,” Arsene pressed a kiss to Akechi’s knuckles. “My doors are always open for you. When you need me, you will find me.”

Akechi nodded, and settled down next to him to watch the play end.

* * *

“You were amazing, as always.” Yusuke said, handing Akira a bouquet of flowers he and Hanasaki had chosen together—calla lilies, lily of the valley, bordered with roses.

Beautiful, sweet Akira, the one who made his life complete.

The young man positively _bloomed_ at the message of the bouquet, and set it down to kiss Yusuke properly.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you came.”

“I always do.” He chuckled, kissing Akira’s knuckles. “I would never miss your plays for the world.”

“You’re laying it on a little thick there.” Akira winked at him, and the both of them laughed. He laced their hands together, and sighed as their laughter died down into contentment. “Hey…”

Yusuke hummed.

“We’ve made it.” Akira said, smiling softly, and Yusuke kissed his forehead.

“Yes, we did. All of us did.” He replied, and Akira leaned into his arms contentedly. “It was a rough ride, with so much pain throughout all of it, but in the end, it was worth it.”

“Yeah,” Akira replied. “All’s well that ends well.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi thanks for staying i hope you didn't mind my steady spiral into depression and then eventually succumbing to it lmao. i'm so so very sorry this fic has to end like this, and i'm sorry for being selfish about getting it over and done with quickly. i know some of you wanted to savour and cherish the experience, but i literally cannot look at this fic without wanting to immediately delete it.
> 
> so, without any further ado, here's the entirety of the au. alongside with the end of this fic, i also would like to announce im retiring from writing.
> 
> so no, no more spinoffs, no more new fic ~~unless you're like one of three people i owe fic to then, uh, see you in twitter dm's~~ from me. im saying goodbye. sorry i left it so incomplete. i'm sorry to futaba, mishima, haru and the nijima sisters. im sorry to everyone who read this, regardless of whether they liked it or not. sorry for wasting your time like this.
> 
> anyway, bye now everyone. off to lurk-land for me.


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